Babies, Bombs, and Bureaucrates, Oh My!
by Blossoms and Babies
Summary: Major Greg Boyington and the Black Sheep have their hands full when Casey and TJ find an abandoned Asian American baby, Greg is fed up trying to get airplane parts, a test of wills nearly causes one the pilots to lose their life, plus some very strange events in the sky. It's enough to drive the average person to drink, but then the Black Sheep are already good at that.
1. Chapter 1

Things had been fairly calm around Vella La Cava or as calm as things could be in the midst of a war. However, that was about to change and several events were going to snowball into organized chaos for the pilots of Marine fighter squadron, VMF-214, the Black Sheep.

"Pappy, we have a problem," Casey said upon entering his tent.

Major Greg "Pappy" Boyington looked up from studying some reconnaissance photos taken over Kolombangara earlier that morning.

"Casey, for the last time, if it's about those 24 cases of scotch that we're getting from the crew of that Navy destroyer based out of Guam, I told you all that they will be delivered sometime today, so go back to the Sheep Pen and tell everyone to be patient."

"No, it's not that," Casey was silent for a moment trying to find the words to express what even he was having a hard time believing himself.

"I think maybe you ought to come over to the Sheep Pen and see for yourself," he said finally.

Curious as to what was going on, that Casey couldn't tell him, Greg got up and followed him outside accompanied, as usual, by his white bull terrier, Meatball. Entering the Sheep Pen he was surprised and a little puzzled to find the other Black Sheep intently looking into a basket that was on one of the tables. Hearing him and Casey enter, they immediately looked up and the expressions on their faces clearly indicated that they were up to something, which, of course, for them was normal.

"The question was," Greg said to himself. "What were they up to and how much trouble was it going to make for him?"

Walking over to the basket he looked inside and blinked wondering if he needed to put in for medical leave as it appeared he was looking at a very tiny, very cute, and very sound asleep Asian-American baby girl wrapped in a pink blanket. A tiny hand curled against her rosebud mouth and dark eyelashes framed her ivory pink cheeks.

"Is that what I think it is?" He asked slowly.

"If you think it's a baby then yeah," Jim Gutterman replied sarcastically.

Greg looked up and sighed.

"That's a relief, for a minute I thought I was losing my mind." Then he added. "Now could someone tell me what is going on here and I better not hear that one of you is a new father."

Casey spoke up.

"TJ and I found her while we were fishing this afternoon. We heard this noise and thought it was some kind of animal, so we went to investigate and after looking through the jungle a few feet we discovered this basket with the baby inside."

"No sign of anyone around?" Greg asked relieved that he didn't have a paternity issue on his hands.

Casey shook his head.

"We looked around and called out to see if anyone was nearby or could hear us, but we didn't see anyone and no one answered so we brought her here and then I came to get you."

"Well," Greg thought."This really screwed things up nicely."

They had to worry about Colonel Lard dropping in unexpectedly as he had not irritated them with his presence in sometime, which meant he could show up at anytime and for any reason. Not to mention the fact that since they were in the middle of a war and they were a Marine fighter squadron there was the constant threat of the island being bombed, by the Japanese in general and by Harachi in particular, although in the later case it was more of a nuisance rather than an actual threat, as Greg and Harachi had developed a love/hate friendship of sorts. They loved to act as though they hated each other, but so far neither one had actually gone and tried kill the other. Of course, there was a first time for everything. Then there was always the chance that they'd be shot down during a mission and be seriously injured, killed, or taken prisoner. Now, they had the added problem of what to do with a baby.

"Yes, things were definitely going to be peachy around here," Greg thought.

"What are we going to do?" TJ asked as if reading his mind.

Greg sat down at one of the tables, laid his head on his arms, and sighed. This was something that had never been covered in any training manual that he had ever read. He felt someone place a hand on his shoulder and he looked up into the concerned faces of his men.

"I'm okay," he assured them. "I was just a little overwhelmed by this new turn of events, but I think I may know how to handle the situation."

Then seeing their relieved looks he proceeded to tell them that after they made an afternoon patrol over The Slot at 1500 he wanted TJ and Casey to make another search of the area where they had been fishing and see if they could locate anything that might indicate who had left the baby and where they might have gone. Meanwhile, Anderson was to go to the other side of the island and see if one of the nurses could stop by to make sure that the baby was okay. Everyone else was to keep out of trouble as much as possible since he was going to be busy for the next few hours with reports and paperwork and didn't want to be disturbed. Greg really hated reports and paperwork and he had put off these particular ones to the point that they needed to be completed and sent in to Colonel Lard ASAP or he was going to be in for it.

Several hours later, Anderson pulled back the mosquito netting covering his door.

"Pappy, are you very busy?"

"I'm just finishing up this paperwork, is there something wrong that I should know about?"

"No," Anderson said as he entered and Greg indicated for him to sit down on a nearby chair. "Major Suzette McIntyre said someone will be here sometime tomorrow to help with our situation," he told him. Then seeing Greg's strange look explained, "I couldn't go into a lot of detail since Colonel Lard and General Moore were at the hospital for a meeting Dr. Pendleton, so I just told her that you wanted to talk to a nurse about a private situation."

"Good thinking, Bob, hopefully that won't raise their curiosity enough that they decide to stop by tomorrow and see what's going on." Then to himself added. "And hopefully Suzette doesn't think we've got a social disease epidemic on our hands."

 _Of course that was the least of my worries. I had been expecting a shipment of parts, brand new, factory sealed parts. These parts had, according to Washington, been supposed to arrive over a month ago, yet there was still no sign of them and, in the meantime, we were doing our best to keep the planes in the air by whatever means available, including duct tap_ e.

The next morning, Greg was trying to straighten up his desk and Meatball was napping beside the baby's basket when Bragg and Gutterman ran into his tent.

"Don't you guys know how to knock and besides the baby is probably scared to death with all the noise you're making," Greg said looking at them sternly.

"Sorry," they said in unison and the baby, as if to prove Greg wrong, just blew a drool bubble and cooed at Meatball who was, wide awake and looking into her basket, watching her, since he had apparently made it his responsibility to keep a close eye on her.

"Now is there something you two wanted to tell me?"

The two of them suddenly remembered why they had rushed into Greg's tent in the first place.

"Yeah, there's a really hot looking nurse outside wanting to speak to you," Bragg said. Then with a mischievous smirk made an off color comment about why Greg had requested one of the nurses stop by.

"Don't I wish that were the case," Greg thought to himself before replying. "No, Suzette told Anderson yesterday that one of the nurses would be over to check the baby that Casey and TJ found to be sure she's okay. Then I'm going to contact Sister Mary Elizabeth at the orphanage and see if she has room to take her in, at least until there's information out that someone's looking for her."

The two of them nodded and then Gutterman asked. "Do you want us to go ahead and send her in here?"

"Yeah, and then tell everyone else that there's going to be a meeting in the Sheep Pen at 1900, anyone who doesn't show up will have to answer to me since what I have to say pertains to the next few days flight schedule."

The two of them ran back outside and a few minutes later Suzette entered.

"I didn't expect you to personally come out here," he said turning around and seeing her standing in the doorway.

Suzette sat her bag on the desk and Greg shooed Meatball out the door. The dog gave him a pathetic look before running off in the direction of the Sheep Pen.

"Well, when 2nd Lt. Anderson said you needed to talk to someone about a private matter and since I had just completed a lecture series with my nurse's on the prevention and treatment of social disease among our enlisted men. I thought maybe it would be best for me to see you myself."

Seeing where she was looking and realizing what she was inferring Greg felt the room suddenly growing warm, not to mention that he himself was beginning to feel hot as well.

"Suzette that is not what I needed to talk to someone about. I need..."

Before he could continue the baby, who had been sleeping in her basket on his cot, began to cry and Suzette looked from him to the basket.

"Did I just hear a baby?" She asked.

Greg went over and picked up the baby who snuggled against him and immediately quieted down with a soft sigh.

"This is what I needed to talk to someone about."

Suzette looked at him with a very questioning expression.

"No," he continued. "She's not mine nor is she any of the other Black Sheep's."

He then went on to explain about TJ and Casey finding her a few days earlier.

"I just want to make sure that she's not sick or anything before I contact Sister Mary Elizabeth to see if there's room for her at the orphanage."

Suzette nodded.

"I had extra training in pediatric nursing during my last year of nursing school. I had hoped to be working in the pediatric ward of a hospital or for a general practitioner, but then this stupid war occurred and anyone with nurse's training was encouraged to enlist and well, as you can see, this is how things turned out."

"So," he asked several minutes later.

Suzette finished making some notes and then handed the baby back to him.

"As far as I can tell she's in very good health, about a month old, I'd say she weighs about 10 pounds, although without an infant scale I can't be more accurate. The only thing I can find wrong with her is that she has a slight case of Candida dermatitis."

Greg looked at her concerned.

"What exactly is that and is it something I'm going to have to worry about the guys catching?"

"Commonly called diaper rash," she said grinning and then added. "I have some A&D ointment in my bag that I can give you to put on each time you change her diaper. I also would recommend letting her lay in the sun without her diaper for about 30 minutes each morning and that should help to clear it up and keep it from recurring."

Greg nodded. "What can you do about getting us some extra clothes and other things for her? There were two cans of powdered formula, that looked as though they came from a missions care package, and a bottle in the basket when Casey and TJ found her and one of those is already gone. We could probably use at least another box of cloth diapers, as well."

Suzette thought for a few moments.

"I'll see what I can do. But, to be honest, I'd contact Sister Mary Elizabeth as soon as possible. If Colonel Lard finds out about her you're going to be in a lot of trouble."

"It wouldn't be the first time," he replied.

"Here are my notes from her examination for you to give to Sister Mary Elizabeth and I'll see what I can do about getting formula, diapers, and few extra clothes."

"Thanks Suzette."

"You're welcome and, Greg, I'm serious about you contacting Sister Mary Elizabeth as soon as possible. You know yourself that Colonel Lard wants to see you and the Black Sheep broken up and this would be just one more thing he could use to justify it."

Greg just nodded and lightly brushed a kiss across her lips.

"Thanks for the warning, but I know how to handle Colonel Lard and it will be a cold day in hell before he sees the Black Sheep broken up as a squadron."

Suzette just looked at him not certain what to say to that.

"I'm supposed to be on floor duty in 45 minutes, so I'd better get back to the hospital, but I'll let you know if I'm able to get what you asked for," she said returning his kiss before picking up her things and heading out the door.

 _I knew that Suzette was right about getting in contact with Sister Mary Elizabeth about the baby before Colonel Lard showed up and the shit really hit the fan. However, for reasons I couldn't explain I knew that it was going to be harder to give the baby up than I had thought._

As he stepped outsid _e_ with the baby the other Black Sheep stopped their baseball game and ran over to him.

"So, what's going on?" TJ asked.

"Yeah, Pappy, what did you find out about the baby?" French added.

Greg motioned for them to be quiet.

"The only thing wrong with her is that she has a mild case of Candida dermatitis," he told them.

The expressions on their faces were priceless as they stared at him in disbelief.

"It's not contagious, is it?" Anderson asked.

"Its diaper rash," Greg replied, which caused a sigh of relief to spread through the group.

"Suzette's told me what to do to clear it up and how to prevent it in the future. Now then, there's a signup sheet in the Sheep Pen, decide what day you want and put your name down. Casey, I want you to come with me and see if you can't get in contact with Sister Mary Elizabeth by radio. I want to find out how soon she can take the baby in."

"Say, Greg, what are we signing up for?" Boyle asked.

"You'll find out at tonight's briefing," Greg told him.

It took a few tries before Casey was able to get a connection with the orphanage, but eventually he was able to make contact and turned things over to Greg.

"Sister Mary Elizabeth, this is Major Greg Boyington with VMF-214 on Vella La Cava. What's that? ...Oh I'm fine...and you?... Good, good...Listen, a couple of my pilots were fishing the other day and they found a basket with an approximately one month old Asian-American baby girl inside, hidden in some vegetation. We can't seem to locate anyone who knows where she came from and I just had Major Suzette McIntyre from the hospital, on the other side of the island, check her out. She's in good health except for a mild case of diaper rash and I was wondering if there was any way you could take her in?"

Greg was silent for a few minutes as he listened to Sister Mary Elizabeth. Casey didn't think that from the look on his face it was good news.

"I see," he said finally. "Thank you and let me know if things change sooner."

"Well that's nice."

"What?" Casey asked.

"It's going to be awhile before the orphanage will have room to take her in since they currently have more children now than they can handle thanks to this wonderful little war we are currently in the middle of."

Later that evening, when everyone was gathered in the Sheep Pen for the briefing Greg had a hard time getting them to settle down and be quiet since they seemed more interested in talking about the new nurses assigned to the hospital rather than paying attention to him.

"Okay, listen up," he said sternly once he had their attention. "As soon as you're dismissed its lights out no staying in here drinking and no sneaking out to meet the nurses down at the beach."

His gaze swept over them with a look that said anyone who disobeyed his order would be in real trouble. That statement, as he had imagined it would be, was met with less than enthusiastic comments.

"We've got a lot going on this week and we need to be alert and as sober as possible. I can't afford for one of you meatheads to do something stupid and get shot up, end up in the hospital and out of action for several weeks, or worse get killed because you were drunk or had your mind on making out with one of the nurses."

"What's going on?" French asked and several of the others began questioning him as well.

Greg held up his hand signaling them to be quiet.

"If you'll shut up I'm going to tell you." Then indicating a map he had put up behind the bar he began to point out various locations in the vicinity. "Tomorrow at 0600 I want the usual morning patrol of the entire perimeter of The Slot."

This news was met with confused looks.

"I'm moving it up an hour because there have been reports of some activity going on near Kolombangara. I have my suspicions, from the reconnaissance photos that were taken the other day, that there's some construction going on and I want it hit and hit hard enough that we send a clear message to the Japs that it will be a waste of time and materials for them to even think about rebuilding once we're through," he said making a large circle on the map indicating the area he was talking about. "I want us in the air no later than 0800, so as soon as we get back from patrol get refueled and be ready to take off again when I say."

"Then," he continued. "Tuesday, same thing at 0600 the usual morning patrol routine. Then after that we're going to divide up. I'm leading the first team and we're going to head towards Choiseul, there's been two Navy destroyers that have been hit in the last 24 hours and I want to send a message to those rice balls that it would be a pretty good idea for them to leave the area and stay away, far, far, away if they know what's good for them. Gutterman is going to lead the second team and see if they can't get some clear pictures of the airstrip and type of buildings on Munda. Then, after we go over those we're going to bomb the crap out of everything. I want the airstrip, planes, oil tanks, anything that can be hit and hit hard bombed. If Casey can get the film developed and I get a chance to look it over plan on being in the air by 0700 on Wednesday to put the screws to them."

"What's he trying to do, kill the Japanese and us too? That's a week's worth of missions in three days," Gutterman muttered under his breath.

Greg heard him and grinned before continuing.

"Wednesday afternoon, if at all possible, but definitely Thursday, we are going to go over every single plane. I want you to write down everything you can find wrong with each plane and photograph every part that has something wrong with it, if possible, to show what you are talking about. Then on a separate sheet of paper I want you to write your name, rank, serial number, what squadron your with, and every single detail about your plane including damage sustained while in combat or on patrol and the date and location of where the damage occurred, if you can remember it."

"What's the point in going to all this trouble?" Bragg asked.

"The point," Greg answered. "Is that I am damn sick and tired of those big shots in Washington promising me parts and then I never see them. So, I am going to mail all of this, pictures, descriptions, who flies what plane, etc. to Washington to show them what I'm talking about. I figure if those bureaucrats can see for themselves what we've got to work with then maybe they'll get their asses in gear and get us what we need to get those planes out there in halfway decent shape. Questions?"

Boyle raised his hand.

"Say, Pappy, what makes you so sure those big shots in Washington will break down and send us the parts. They might just take a look at the pictures and descriptions, decide that our planes aren't worth fixing and since on any given day it's a miracle that we have the 15 planes needed to keep us together, they would say that it's all the evidence they need to break us up as a squadron and send us who knows where."

 _None of the others knew it, but that thought had crossed my mind several times since I had discussed the plan with Hutch. What he knew, and of course none of the others did, was that I had a backup plan in mind that would guarantee the Black Sheep stayed together no matter what._

 _"_ Hopefully, it won't come to that, but if it does don't worry there's no way they're going to break us up as long as I'm around."

Several cries of "That's telling them." and "Let 'em have it, Pappy," could be heard and he waited until things had quieted down before continuing.

"One last thing, I contacted Sister Mary Elizabeth and at the moment there is no possible way she can take the baby in. So it looks like she's going to be around for awhile, the way things look now. I don't think we can keep calling her it or the baby so we need to decide on a name for her."

There was quite a bit of discussion after that as everyone wanted to name her after their mother, sister, grandmother, great, great aunt, favorite teacher, first girlfriend in grade school, the elderly next door neighbor who always had a plate of their favorite just baked cookies for them when they were growing up, or another special female they fondly remembered. Finally, Greg had a list of about 20 or so names and after much discussion and elimination they narrowed that list down to eight.

"Okay," Greg instructed. "I want each of you to pick two of these eight names and write them on a piece of paper and hand that in to me."

The next few minutes were quiet with the exception of an occasional coo or giggle from the baby, who was in her basket on the floor between TJ and Casey, as everyone tried to decide which two names to choose. At last, all the papers were handed in and Greg spread them out on the bar looking them over. Meatball got up, went outside, and came back a few minutes later with a stick which after he lay down began to chew on.

"All right," Greg said finally. "It looks as if we've decided to name her Emily Grace."

Meatball stopped chewing on the stick, thumped his tail on the ground, and barked happily, obviously pleased with the name as well.

Just then Greg remembered the signup sheet that he had mentioned earlier.

"And one more thing Suzette told me that we should let Emily sunbathe on her tummy, on a towel, without her diaper, for about 30 minutes each morning to help clear up and prevent her diaper rash from reoccurring. The signup sheet I mentioned earlier is over here on the wall, so all of you need to write your name by what day you want to sit with her while she sunbathes. Of course, this won't excuse you from patrol duty. So, that means you will sit with her, on your chosen day, as soon as we get back from that," he told them. "Dismissed and remember what I said about lights out."

Despite having gotten to bed at a decent hour, for once, the Black Sheep were half asleep as they climbed into their planes for the morning patrol over The Slot. Greg had checked the weather report and it was going to be an uneventful patrol, weather-wise, they might face a few clouds near New Georgia, but they could drop down to 18,000 feet and take care of that matter, if they needed to. The morning patrol went off without incident, the only thing in sight was the USS Detroit and after changing frequencies Greg was able to make contact with them. There was some good natured bantering between them as well as a few comments made in regard to the new nurses at the hospital. Finally, Greg was able to get to the real reason for contacting them and after much bargaining back and forth he was able to make a deal that the Black Sheep would leave the new nurses alone for a week in exchange for four cases of bourbon, eight cases of scotch, six cases of whiskey, a case of rum, and twelve cases of beer, as well as a box of 50 assorted cuts of steak, from the shipment that Admiral Willoughby had ordered to be served at a dinner honoring some dignitaries from England who were going to arriving in a few weeks. The fact that they had to literally keep their hands off the newly arrived nurses for a week didn't sit too well with the Black Sheep, but since they were getting steaks and liquor out of the deal that helped to make up for the inconvenience to some extent.

A few minutes later, they were once again heading back towards Kolumbangara and the USS Detroit was soon nothing more than a speck in the distance.

"From this point forward and until I say otherwise I want no radio contact, whatsoever, use hand signals only if you need to communicate with each other since we don't know for certain what they've got going on down there. You all know what to look for, so once we see it bomb the hell out of it."

"Got it Greg," Anderson replied.

"Roger that Pappy," French seconded.

And the others responded likewise.

They flew in silence, then just over Kolombangara, Boyle thought he saw something going on down below them and, as they dropped in altitude, the airstrip and other buildings shown in the photographs taken earlier were clearly visible. A few seconds later the construction in progress was reduced to a dark burning crater as the four fuel tanks exploded in a hellacious fireball consuming the planes and other buildings in the process as the Black Sheep dropped 500 pound bombs on them. When they were several hundred miles from the sight Greg resumed radio contact.

"Great job everyone, that's going to send them a pretty strong message that we're not here to play games, this is war and we're serious about winning."

Then for the next few minutes there was nonstop talking as they discussed the mission and congratulated each other on its success. Suddenly, Anderson saw something and it definitely was not what he wanted nor hoped to see. Eight Zeros were closing in on them from behind at 3 o'clock.

"We've got trouble eight Zeros on our tails at 3 o'clock," he yelled into the radio.

Suddenly, everything was quiet as the Black Sheep ceased their conversation and concentrated on the situation at hand as the eight Zeros closed in. One of them made the mistake of thinking that he had encountered an easy target not realizing who he was up against. For his mistake he was given a direct and permanent trip to visit his ancestors as a well placed shot by Anderson to his fuel tank sent the Zero exploding into a million pieces, the burning metal falling to the ocean below like the remnants of July 4th fireworks. Though not in quite so spectacular fashion French and Casey also added to their confirmed kills. Three of the four remaining Zeros, not liking the odds they were up against, turned and headed back in the direction they had come from. The last one, however, was going to honor the memory of his fallen pilots and bring down an enemy plane or two. He got behind TJ and stuck to him like glue to paper despite TJ's attempts to shake him off by any means possible.

"Hey, I could use some help over here," TJ said into the radio trying to keep calm.

"I'm on my way," Bragg affirmed.

"Same here," Boyle replied.

"Pappy, you want us to go after those other three Zeros?" French asked.

At the moment Greg was more concerned with Boyle, TJ, and Bragg as the pilot of that Zero was either unconcerned with who he was up against, insane, or both and it could quickly come to a point where all of them were going to be needed to get the three of them out of trouble.

"Let 'em go we've got bigger problems with this rice ball," he said.

Just then Gutterman fired a shot striking the underside of the plane. The Zero spiraled toward the ocean breaking up as it hit the water before sinking like a stone.

"You okay TJ," Greg asked.

"I'm fine, the plane's got a cracked canopy and there's definitely some exterior damage where I got hit, but nothing that Hutch should have trouble taking care of."

Boyle and French confirmed that their planes were in the same shape.

"We shouldn't have any trouble making it back then," Greg said relieved.

 _I couldn't believe that we had gotten out of that without losing even one plane or life. They say God looks after fools and drunks and in our case it could be said to be the literal truth._

Arriving back on Vella La Cava the Black Sheep found everything quiet. Hutch was sitting against a tree cleaning some spark plugs while Emily was asleep in her basket with Meatball lying beside her basket sleeping as well.

As soon as the planes had landed Greg walked over and sat down beside Hutch.

"Did they actually find the time to send us some parts?" He asked indicating the box of spark plugs.

"You kidding, I found four boxes of these back in that old supply shed. They're all in need of a good cleaning, but I think we might be able to get some use out of them."

Greg suddenly got a bemused look on his face.

"What?" Hutch asked.

"Do you realize those rice balls probably left them when they vacated this island? I'd like to see the looks on those big shots in Washington's faces if they ever found out we've been reduced to using parts meant for enemy planes just to keep ours in the air."

"If they'll even work," Hutch replied.

Greg picked up one of the plugs that Hutch had finished cleaning and looked at it.

"They might, I've got some paperwork to finish up and then we can switch the plugs from plane with these and I'll fly out a little ways and see what happens."

"Fine by me, a couple of the nurses brought two boxes and put them on your cot. They said to tell you that they're from Suzette."

"It's probably some things that I asked her try to get Emily, so I'll head over and see what she was able to send over," he replied.

As he picked up Emily's basket Meatball awoke and barked in greeting. Afraid that he'd awaken her, Greg whispered for him to be quiet. Meatball looked at Emily and seeing that she was still asleep glanced at Greg as if to say, "What are you worried about she's sound asleep?" before following him across the camp.

At Greg's tent, Meatball made himself comfortable on the cot the minute Greg had set the two boxes on the floor.

"Hey leave room for Emily," he told him gently pushing him aside so he could get her basket off the floor. Then he proceeded to see what was in the boxes. Opening the first one he found an envelope with a note inside.

This was the best I could do,

I know it's not much, but

hopefully you can try to request

any other supplies you need for

Emily and maybe Colonel Lard

will sign off on the request without

checking it.

Love,

Suzette

"There's not a snowball's chance in hell of that happening," Greg said to himself.

But, at least Suzette had managed to get a few of the things he needed. Looking through the box he found a couple of baby blankets, about two dozen cloth diapers, a couple baby bottles, a rattle, some picture books, a cloth doll, and a yellow duck. The second box contained two cases of powdered formula and some little shirts and nightgowns as well as a book on baby care.

"Well, at least we've got a few more things for you," Greg said to Emily before he picked up the book and began reading.

It was later that afternoon and most of the Black Sheep were either down at the beach with the nurses or playing cards in the Sheep Pen. Emily was with Casey and French who had gone with Penelope and Claire for a walk along the beach. This, with them watching Emily, made it easier for Greg and Hutch to check out the spark plugs that he had found in the maintenance shed.

"We'll just check out about 12 of them in my plane and then the others can each check out 12 in their planes until we've gone through all the boxes."

Hutch nodded.

"I've already switched one out on your plane so take off whenever you're ready.

Greg took off and flew out over the water for a few miles along the same path as the morning patrol with no problems.

"That one was okay," he told Hutch as they switched out that plug for another one.

After about the third time flying out Casey, French, Penelope, and Claire all noticed the plane.

"Who is that?" Claire asked.

Casey looked up at the plane circling around.

"It's Pappy, but I have no idea why he keeps taking off and landing like that."

"Do you think he's in some sort of trouble?" Claire asked concerned.

French looked at the plane again.

"Nah, but if the girls want we can head back and make sure."

Emily, who was getting sleepy, let out an angry yowl.

"I think that answers that question plus Claire and I have night duty at the hospital so we probably should be getting back," Penelope replied.

After Penelope and Claire were safely at the hospital, Casey, French, and Emily returned to camp. Casey took Emily to his tent for a nap and French went to look for Greg. He found him and Hutch standing next to his plane talking and walked over to them.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Greg pointed at the box of spark plugs.

"Just testing these out, Hutch found them in that old supply shed and is cleaning them up. We've check out 12 in my plane and they all work. So, each of you guys will check out 12 in your planes. There's four boxes total and if they all work that will be one less thing to worry about, as far as parts are concerned, for awhile."

"I need to get those cameras mounted before tomorrow. Where do you want them?" Hutch asked.

Greg thought for a few moments.

"French, TJ, Boyle, and Gutterman are going to be the second team, so they'll need them on their planes," he replied.

The rest of the afternoon passed fairly quietly, the quiet interrupted only by Meatball who was barking at a couple of small monkeys that were chasing each other through the trees near the camp. Greg was in the Sheep Pen reading when Anderson came in and sat down across from him.

"Interesting book?" he asked.

"Well, to a certain extent," Greg replied. Everything You Need To Know About Caring For Your New Baby. It was in one of the boxes that Suzette sent over. I'm going make it required reading for each of you as well."

"What?" Anderson couldn't believe what Greg had just said.

"You heard me until Sister Mary Elizabeth can take her in Emily is our responsibility and we're all going to do whatever it takes to make sure she's well cared for, including reading a manual on baby care."

"Who gets to read it after you?" Anderson asked.

"Since you seem so anxious," Greg replied. "You do."


	2. Chapter 2

A low bank of clouds stretched across the horizon at about 6,000 feet. They had moved in during breakfast following the morning patrol and Greg stood looking at the horizon trying to decide whether or not to continue as planned with the day's flights.

"Here's the latest weather report, Pappy," Casey said running up to him.

Greg took the paper from him and studied it for a few moments.

"According to this we should be in fairly good shape until early evening."

"So we're still going ahead with bombing the airstrip?" Casey asked.

Greg looked at the horizon again still not liking the look of the cloud bank, but it was in the opposite direction from where they were going and appeared to be moving in that same direction so hopefully they'd make it back alright without running into any severe weather or heavy cloud cover.

"So, what are we going to do?" Casey asked.

"Tell Gutterman to have the second team ready to take off in 30 minutes and I'll lead the first team out 15 minutes after that."

Casey turned and ran off to relay the message for Gutterman to get ready since everything was going to go on as scheduled.

Both teams carried out their missions flawlessly. Greg's team located the airstrip on Choiseul and although it looked as if several of the Zeros were in the air they did considerable to those that were on the ground. Greg and Bragg strafed the planes that were on the ground until they were burning or so full of bullet holes that they looked like Swiss cheese and there was no possible way for them to take off, before moving on to strafe the airstrip to the point that it would take months of work before it could be used for that purpose again. Casey and Anderson flew over and dropped several 500 bombs over the maintenance building, which disintegrated in a spectacular explosion that sent pieces of it flying into the air and jungle for several feet.

As they headed back to join the second team Greg couldn't help but think that with the success of this bombing mission it was assured that all military branches stationed in or passing through the area would have one less thing to worry about, if not permanently, then at least for quite some time.

Gutterman and the rest of the second team made several passes over Bougainville getting quite a few photographic shots including several very clear ones of the planes and buildings as well as giving them a fairly good estimate of the number of Japanese on the island. Both teams had regrouped and were within a few miles of Vella La Cava when the weather started to get dicey. Black, almost green, cumulonimbus clouds their tops reaching upwards of 45,000 feet, before flattening out in an anvil-like shape, roiled around them.

"Second team leader to Black Sheep One can you hear me?" Gutterman called over the radio.

"Loud and clear, second team leader what's wrong?"

"Where'd this weather come from? I thought you told us the weather report said things would be fine until evening?"

"Yeah, that's what it said, but apparently some idiot didn't know what he was talking about. It's probably going to be rough the rest of the way in so stick close and pray we all make it," Greg said before signing off.

The wind was starting to pick up on Vella La Cava as Hutch, Emily, and Meatball waited for the two groups to return. It was impossible for Hutch to hear anything over the wind, and then suddenly he saw a plane descending from the clouds.

"That looks like Greg's plane," he thought as he ran to help get the planes tied down once they had all landed leaving Meatball to stand guard by Emily's basket. After everyone was safely on the ground Greg jumped out.

"Get those planes tied down and anything else that hasn't been secured yet, then everyone get to the Sheep Pen. It looks like we're in for one hell of a storm."

No sooner had they all gotten safely into the Sheep Pen than the storm hit with all its fury. Meatball lay on the floor beside Greg and whimpered at each clash of thunder, while Anderson walked around with Emily trying to comfort her. The sound of trees breaking and cracking could be heard above the wind as torrential rain battered the Sheep Pen.

"Hutch, I'd be prepared for some major damage to our planes," Greg commented.

"That's what I'm afraid of," he replied.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash very close to the Sheep Pen followed by everyone being thrust into sudden darkness.

"I think a tree fell on one of the generators," French commented.

"Great, just great," Greg said."Okay, does anyone know if we have candles and matches around here?"

"I think we've got some in a box behind the bar, but I'm not sure exactly where," Casey answered.

"Good luck trying to find them in the dark," Gutterman said irritably.

The next few minutes were filled with the sounds of TJ and Boyle, who had been standing next to the bar, trying to locate the box in question behind it.

"I think I found it!" Boyle exclaimed followed by the sound of breaking glass and the smell of beer.

"Boyle!" several of the Black Sheep cried out.

"Well, at least it wasn't the hard liquor and besides you guys ought to try doing this. It ain't easy looking for something in pitch darkness when you don't even know where it is to begin with," Boyle replied.

"Here we are," TJ said feeling around inside a small box.

A few seconds later the Sheep Pen was illuminated by candlelight giving them a chance to see how much damage had been done from the broken bottles. Luckily, only a few were broken and that mess was quickly cleaned up. Emily had finally fallen asleep although, now that he could see, Anderson continued to walk around with her.

Greg looked at his watch and noted it was a little after midnight.

"I don't think this will be ending anytime soon," he said. Although it had slacked off considerably. "So, I think the best thing to do is for all of us to make ourselves as comfortable as possible and try to sleep because tomorrow is not going to be an easy day."

The next morning, Greg awoke to find Emily already awake with two fingers in her mouth, quite content to just lay there and think. The rest of the Black Sheep were sprawled over tables or in chairs and combined with the smell of beer that still hung heavily in the air, from the broken bottles, Greg thought that if Colonel Lard or General Moore were to walk in it wouldn't surprise him if they assumed they were all passed out drunk after a long night of mindless drinking.

He managed to heat some water in a pot and make coffee as well as fix Emily her bottle. After she was fed and changed she went back to sleep. Then taking his cup he stepped outside to see the extent of the damage caused by the previous night's storm.

It was still raining although it had tapered off to a fine mist. Trees were down everywhere and branches littered the camp. Coconuts were tossed all over and from what he could see it looked as if some of the planes had been hit by branches, but how bad the damage was he couldn't tell from the doorway. Of course, they'd have to do a complete inspection of the buildings to see how badly they were damaged, but that could wait until things were cleaned up a little bit.

"Morning, Pappy how's it look out there?" Bragg asked sleepily from behind him.

Greg turned around.

"It's a mess out there so as soon as everyone gets up and has breakfast we'll start cleaning things up."

Slowly and with stiff muscles from their uncomfortable sleeping arrangements the rest of the Black Sheep awoke. TJ and French managed to scrape together a breakfast of sorts consisting of crackers, dried fruit, mixed nuts, and coffee.

"Has anyone been outside yet?" French asked.

"Yes and plan on spending most of the day cleaning up, maybe the next several days depending on how badly damaged the buildings are," Greg said.

After breakfast, Hutch and Boyle went to see how badly damaged the planes were. Anderson and TJ began to pick up coconuts and put them in empty boxes from the Sheep Pen. Casey took Emily and went to see if the radio worked before he attempted to contact General Moore to let him know about the damage sustained and then contact Sister Mary Elizabeth to see if everything was okay at the orphanage. Greg and French went to see how badly damaged the generator was and try to get it working. Gutterman and Anderson began sawing fallen trees and moving branches; piling them at the far end of the airstrip. Meatball had been walking around checking things out when suddenly he sniffed the air, started barking, and ran off into the jungle.

"What's gotten into him?" French remarked to Greg.

"I have no idea, but we'd better go after him. I don't want him to get hurt or anything."

The two of them stopped working on the generator and followed the sound of Meatball's barking. They found him several feet into the jungle standing by a fallen tree under which lay four very large and very dead wild pigs.

"Whoa," French commented. "Pappy, it looks like we're going to eat good for a few days, that is, if we can get this tree off of them and get them back to camp."

Greg ran back and got Gutterman and Anderson to bring a couple of saws and in a few minutes they had the tree cut apart and the pigs freed. They drug them back and put them in front of the Sheep Pen, next to the boxes of coconuts, covering them with a tarp to keep the flies and insects off of them.

"Finish getting these big trees cut up and then get a fire going and get these roasted," Greg said to Anderson and Gutterman. Then he went to see what Hutch and Boyle had found concerning the planes.

"It could have been worse," Hutch replied. "A couple of the planes have canopies that were smashed by fallen branches and your plane has some minor damage to the right wing as well as a smashed canopy and bent propeller; otherwise it's mostly cosmetic damage; scratched paint and dents from the hail."

"I'll send Anderson, French, Boyle, and TJ on patrol for the next few days and that should give us time to get them repaired," Greg said thankful that the damage wasn't worse.

Finished picking up coconuts, Anderson and TJ along with Casey and Emily walked around noting what damage had been done to the buildings. Luckily, there wasn't too much, a few shingles were blown off the Sheep Pen and there was some minor damage done to some of the tents, but all in all nothing that couldn't be repaired with things they had on hand and wouldn't take too long to fix either.

It was a few days after the tropical storm had struck Vella La Cava and French, Anderson, TJ, and Boyle were on morning patrol since Hutch was still working on getting the damage done to the other planes, as a result of the storm, repaired. They were about 500 miles off the coast of Munda when Anderson looked down at his instrument panel and then out the window suddenly very confused.

"Do you guys know where we are?" he asked over the radio.

"Not quite halfway down The Slot," French answered.

Then suddenly it hit him that it was unlike Anderson to ask such a question especially since they patrolled this same area every morning and evening. In fact, they were all so familiar with the area that if it weren't for having to keep an eye out for Zeros and Japanese destroyers they would probably try and fly it with their eyes closed just to break the monotony.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"No, take a look at your instrument panel and tell me what your gages are reading."

French did and could barely get the words out.

"TJ and Boyle what are your gages showing?" he asked his voice nearly panicked with fear.

The two of them relayed similar readings.

"Something's not right," Anderson screamed into the radio.

"Stay calm, everyone, we know where we are even though our gages say we're way off course, so let's not do anything to cause us to end up in the water. Pappy would really beat the crap out of us if that happened. Since we've got four planes still damaged from the storm there's no way we can risk losing anymore." French said trying to calm himself as well as the others.

Just then Boyle noticed something out the window that shook him up even more.

"Take a look to the Northwest guys."

"What the hell!" French choked.

"I don't believe it!"Anderson exclaimed.

"I don't like what I'm seeing!" TJ said in a shocked voice.

About 50 miles away from them was a strange black cloud and by black the four of them meant black to the point of nothingness, thick, inhuman, otherworldly blackness and what was even more unreal the "cloud" was outlined in a brilliant, greenish-yellow glowing light. It was about five miles across and headed towards them at a fairly good clip.

"TURN AROUND AND HEAD BACK NOW!" French ordered.

Despite the fact that their gages were going crazy they turned the planes and increased their speed to 400 mph.

"Think it's following us?" TJ asked.

"I'm afraid to look," French replied his fingers gripping the stick to the point they were white and he could barely feel them.

Tentatively, Boyle turned and looked. The "cloud" was now about 20 miles behind them, but half the size it had previously been and as the four of them watched it continued shrinking until it disappeared. What was even stranger was at the exact same moment the "cloud" disappeared their instrument readings returned to normal as if nothing had happened.

The rest of the flight back to Vella La Cava was flown in silence, no one wanted to speak and they were shaking so badly it was all they could do to fly the planes.

Meanwhile, it had been Greg's turn to sit with Emily during her sunbath and he had to admit that it had helped to clear up and keep her diaper rash from returning. She was now splashing happily in a tub of water. It was only midmorning, but the heat and humidity were already making it miserable. Emily had been uncomfortable even in just her diaper and, during her sunbath, Casey had brought Greg the tub of water suggesting that she might enjoy playing in it, since it was so hot.

Meatball though seemed to think she was playing in his personal water dish and kept trying to stick his tongue in the water to lap it up.

"For the third time, will you get out of there," Greg said. "Can't you get it through that thick, canine head of yours that this is for Emily to play in and not for you to drink out of?"

"Blah, gaa, goo goo," Emily babbled as she splashed water on Meatball who, not happy about getting wet in the first place, took off towards the Sheep Pen.

Emily looked up at Greg with a bemused smile, pointed in the direction Meatball had gone, and stuck out her tongue.

"I guess you told him," Greg remarked then seeing French, Boyle, TJ, and Anderson approaching from the airstrip got Emily out of the water and wrapped her in a towel, which didn't make her very happy.

"I know," he replied. "But, the guys are back from patrol and it looks like something may have gone wrong, so maybe later after your nap you can play in the water again."

That seemed to satisfy her as she quietly laid her head against his shoulder, sighed, and stuck her fingers in her mouth.

"Pappy did you or anyone else notice anything strange towards Choiseul this morning?"French asked.

"No," Greg replied. "I didn't and no one else has said anything to me, why?"

Then he noticed that all four of them looked visibly shaken.

They told him, as best they could, what had happened during the morning patrol. Greg looked towards the ocean.

"There's got to be a logical explanation," he said trying to calm them. "I'll have Casey get a weather report from Espritos Marcos. I'm sure it was just some kind of rare cloud formation and coupled with this ungodly heat and humidity combined to create an unusual storm front. The electrical surges from the lightening could have been what caused your instruments act like they did."

Greg knew that they didn't believe what he had just said anymore than he did. Just then Casey and Gutterman walked across the camp.

"Casey, I need you over here for a minute," Greg called.

"What?" Casey replied running over to him.

"Take Emily and get her dressed then take her with you and contact the weather station on Espritos Marcos. I need a detailed weather report covering the entire Slot from 0000 up until now. I especially want it noted if there were any reports of any unusual weather or atmospheric conditions around 0600 or 0630 near Choiseul."

"Any particular reason why?" Casey asked.

"After I see the report and talk to some other people about the situation that this pertains to I'll discuss the matter with everyone, if I think that it's necessary to do so," he answered. Then to French, Anderson, Boyle, and TJ added. "You four can give me a complete and official report of what you saw out there in my tent and hopefully once Casey gets that weather report this will make a lot more sense."

 _I really didn't know what to make of what they had told me. I knew none of them had been drinking the night before so I knew that what they were describing, unbelievable though it was, was not the result of too much liquor. Still there had to be a logical explanation for what they had experienced and hopefully Casey could get to the bottom of it._

It was later in the afternoon and Casey was still waiting on some information to come in from Espritos Marcos before he joined Greg and the other Black Sheep, who were finally making a complete assessment of their planes, which had had to be put off because of the storm.

"Be careful with the cameras," Greg cautioned. "I borrowed them from a very nice young SeaBee named George Williams and he needs them back before they sail for New Guinea since they're property of the USS Westpoint."

In response to that statement a chorus of "We'll take care of them," and "We'll be careful," went up from the Black Sheep.

"Good, as I said earlier, completely fill out a description sheet listing everything you find wrong on your plane even if it's something Hutch can easily fix and take pictures of each thing on your list. Then label the film with your name and give it to Casey and then put your description sheets in one of these manila envelopes," Greg said handing them to Bragg to hand out. "Then after that a couple of you can watch Emily while Hutch and I go over my plane."

Emily was lying in her playpen which Gutterman and French had made by laying a mattress that they had managed to get from the hospital, on the ground, sticking some large branches around it, and wrapping those with mosquito netting. Meatball was lying on the ground watching her and the two of them were having what appeared to be an interesting conversation, although, Greg doubted that Emily understood canine and Meatball, to the best of his knowledge, did not understand babyese. It would keep her safe and close by while they checked over the planes which, until they had come up with the idea for the playpen, he had had no idea how they would accomplish that.

"I still think this is stupid," Gutterman complained.

Greg looked at him not liking his pessimistic attitude.

"If it's stupid and it works it isn't stupid," he said firmly.

"That's my point exactly it isn't going to work."

"How do you know?" Greg asked. "We've never tried this before."

"And I say all it's going to do is get us broken up as a squadron," Gutterman countered.

"Who else feels that way?"

Several hands tentatively went up.

"Well, I'm going to say this one time and only one time. There's not going to be any chance of that happening, if I have any say about it. So you clowns get that thought out of your heads, quit your griping, and get busy with these planes like I told you to or you're really going to have something to worry about."

Immediately everyone ceased their complaining and got to work on checking over the planes and recording and photographing whatever they found that needed fixing or replaced.

That night Greg was looking over the weather reports Casey had gotten for him, but nothing out of the ordinary was noted on any of them. Still, Greg didn't have any doubt that the four of them had witnessed something very strange while on patrol, something that was not weather related nor could be explained as being of human origin, and whatever it was they had seen; he damn sure hoped no one else had to encounter a similar experience.

Meanwhile, Anderson, Boyle, Casey, and Gutterman were in the Sheep Pen when TJ entered looking as if he had lost his last friend, his dog had died, and he'd gotten a letter from his girlfriend in the States saying she was now married to someone else all at the same time.

"TJ what's wrong?" Anderson asked.

TJ got a beer and sat down between Anderson and Casey.

"I got a letter from my mom," he told them quietly.

"My condolences," Gutterman said.

"No one died; it's just that my brother, Robert, and his wife are having a rough time. They're trying to start a family and after a year, with still no little one on the way, they went to see a doctor in New York who's one of the top specialists in treating couples who are having trouble starting a family."

Then noting that none of them were even attempting to make an off color comment he continued.

"Janie, my sister-in-law, was in a serious accident a year before her and my brother met and sustained some major abdominal injuries. The doctor told them that as a result it was going to be more difficult for her to become pregnant, plus he thinks some of it has to do them being stressed out over not having a child yet, so he suggested for the time being they consider adopting a baby because sometimes that takes the stress off the parents and they go on to have a child of their own, sometimes as soon as a year after adopting, since they're not under so much stress."

"So what are they going to do?" Casey asked.

"They've started filling out the paperwork to adopt, but it may be a year or more before a baby is available."

"That sucks," Anderson said and the others agreed.

They sat in silence for several minutes TJ's news having made them down in the dumps themselves.

"I just had an idea!" Anderson exclaimed.

"What?" The others asked.

"TJ's brother and sister-in-law were told they'd probably have a long wait before a baby was available to adopt, right?"

"That's what he said. Do you need your hearing checked?" Gutterman answered.

Anderson ignored him and continued.

"Think about it, they want to start a family and we can help."

"What?" the others looked at him confused.

"Would they consider adopting an Asian-American baby?"

"I'd have to ask, but right now I think they'd adopt Meatball if Pappy would give him up."

"Okay then, think about it, we can get them a baby."

They were still silent looking at Anderson as if he were a few cards short of a full deck.

Then suddenly Casey got what he was talking about.

"Emily," he exclaimed. "You're suggesting they adopt Emily!"

"Yeppers, we've never located her family, the orphanage still doesn't know when they'll have room, and of course we'd have to run this by Pappy and the other guys, but I think it's a great idea."

"What do you think, TJ?" Boyle asked.

"Casey, can we try to put a call in to the States tomorrow?" he replied.

 _While all that was taking place right under my nose in the Sheep Pen. I was filling out my regular supply form and so far Colonel Lard had not noticed the fact that in addition to the usual, necessary supplies; for the last few months I had been ordering diapers, formula, and other various items necessary to the care and feeding of a baby. However, I had a very uncomfortable feeling that was about to change._


	3. Chapter 3

**Espritos Marcos Island**

 **Allied Command**

 **Rear Area**

Colonel Thomas Lard sat at his desk signing off on supply requisition forms. It was usually cut and dried requests and he was anxious to get over to the Officers' Club and have a drink with his old friend Admiral Willoughby, but suddenly his eyes skimmed over the supply form submitted by VMF-214 on Vella La Cava.

"WHAT IS BOYINGTON UP TO NOW?" He thundered. Then pressing a button on the intercom on his desk he addressed his secretary. "Pamela, bring me copies of the last three months supply requisitions from VMF-214."

"Yes Sir and your wife just phoned with the menu for Admiral Willoughby's surprise birthday party for you to take a look at. Would you like for me to bring that in as well?"

Colonel Lard was really in no mood to be looking at menus and even though the Admiral was one of his best friends this formal dinner had been his wife's idea.

"So," he thought. "Let her deal with the menu."

He was sure that Douglas Willoughby would be much happier having a private party consisting of a night of drinking and scantily clad girls at the Officers' Club, but he didn't have a choice in the matter. So instead, he, the guest of honor, and their high ranking friends would be subjected to an evening of dressing up like penguins, listening to boring speeches, and sitting through a drawn out, several course, formal dinner.

"Yes, Pamela, bring it in and I'll look it over later," he answered more concerned with what was going on Vella La Cava that he had not been made aware of.

A few minutes later, Pamela entered.

"Here we are, Sir, and I'll just place the menu in your in box."

"Thank you, would you read over this particular supply requisition form and tell me what you see?"

Pamela began reading and then she got down to the last several items.

"Two cases of formula, one case of diapers, 12 onesies, 14 infant dresses, picture books,14 nightgowns, 4 cotton baby blankets, a stuffed bear..., What is all this, Sir?"

The Colonel looked over the previous months requests and noted that each contained basic infant care items, but whether or not those items had been received he didn't know. However, he certainly was going to find out.

"I don't know, Pamela, but when I do find out Greg Boyington and those Black Sheep are going to have a lot of explaining to do."

 **Vella La Cava Island**

 **214 Squadron H Q**

TJ knocked on Greg's door and stuck his head past the mosquito netting.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked.

Greg looked up from some papers that he had been reading from General Moore.

"What's on your mind, TJ?" he asked.

TJ proceeded to tell him about the letter from his mother and the idea he, Anderson, Boyle, Casey, and Gutterman had come up with about his brother and sister-in-law adopting Emily.

"Casey was able to connect me with the U.S. mainland and I was able to talk to my brother this morning. He said if it could be arranged they'd love to adopt Emily. He's not going to say anything to Janie or anyone else in the family until it looks like it will actually happen."

Greg leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head thinking.

"It might work. Let me talk to Sister Mary Elizabeth and see what the best way to handle this is. In the meantime, talk to the other guys and make sure they're all okay with it as well."

It was later that afternoon and the temperature was in the low 90's with high humidity making it feel uncomfortably sticky. Greg had undressed Emily down to her diaper and she was napping in her basket. Greg, too, was lying on his cot dozing and Meatball had dug a fairly good sized hole underneath the cot and was laying in that asleep.

Despite the unbearable temperatures, for lack of anything else to do, the rest of the Black Sheep had chosen up sides and started a baseball game, which had been going on for about an hour; when Bragg, who was pitching, suddenly stood there looking towards the airstrip.

"Hey are you going pitch or stare at the sky hoping a plane load of USO show girls makes an emergency landing?" Gutterman yelled.

Bragg looked over his shoulder.

"Casey, run and tell Greg that Colonel Lard's at the end of the runway talking to Hutch and he doesn't seem to be in a good mood. We'll continue the game so he doesn't suspect we saw him arrive."

Casey nodded and took off towards Greg's tent and upon entering found him asleep.

"Pappy," he gently shook his shoulder several times. "Pappy, wake up we've got a problem."

Greg stirred and sleepily opened one eye.

"Whus the matter? Did a plane carrying Betty Gable, Ginger Rogers, and Lana Turner land and you're all fighting over who gets to kiss them first?"

"No, but right now we all wish that were the case because Colonel Lard is at the end of the airstrip talking to Hutch and he's riled up about something from the looks of it."

Hearing that statement Greg suddenly came fully awake.

"What do you want us to do, Pappy?" Casey asked.

Greg, who had been sleeping in next to nothing, began to get dressed.

"All of you just let me do the talking until I find out exactly why he's here. Although, I'd bet a case of scotch that it has something to do with this sleeping little angel here," he said looking at Emily as he buttoned his shirt. "Do me a favor and stay here with her; if Colonel Lard and I come in pretend we were looking over these reconnaissance photos that French and Anderson took over Bougainville the other day."

"Will do, Pappy," Casey said and sat down at Greg's desk so that it appeared as if the two of them had been in a discussion about what was going on in the pictures.

Greg had no sooner stepped outside than the Colonel pulled up in his jeep, got out, and approached him looking as if he was really going to let Greg have it.

"BOYINGTON, WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" He yelled.

"Well Sir," Greg had this very innocent, angelic look on his face which he was certain would infuriate the Colonel even more than he already was. "This is a baseball game, America's number one pastime, ranking up there with mom and apple pie. Which, did I mention that Boyle's mom won first prize at the Cedar Springs Annual Bake Off with her Cinnamon Apple Crumb Cake?"

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THAT. WHAT IS GOING ON WITH THIS?"

He held up copies of the supply forms for the last few months.

"Sir, I have no idea to what specifically you are referring to?"

At that moment French hit a home run which not only brought in him, but also the players on the other three bases as well and put his team in the lead by a significant margin. In addition, the ball nearly hit Greg and Colonel Lard as it sailed across the camp landing beside Meatball who had gone outside to take care of some necessary business. Meatball not fond of baseballs falling from the air, barked in surprise and ran back into Greg's tent where he figured he'd be much safer than outside with flying baseballs.

"HEY, LET'S KEEP IT IN THE BALL PARK!" Greg yelled.

"Sorry Pappy, they replied in unison although Greg could tell the only thing they were sorry about was that Colonel Lard had avoided getting some sense knocked into that thick, fat head of his.

The Colonel, who was not going to put up with anymore of Greg's nonsense, replied. "I AM REFERRING TO THESE SUPPLY FORMS. A CASE OF DIAPERS, TWO CASES OF FORMULA, ONESIES, BABY BLANKETS, ETC. THIS, AND I USE THE TERM VERY LOOSELY IN THIS CASE, IS A MARINE FIGHTER SQUADRON AND NOT THE INFANT'S DEPARTMENT AT THE EMPORIUM. THERE BETTER BE A GOOD AND BELIEVABLE EXPLANATION FOR ALL OF THIS OTHERWISE, BOYINGTON, YOU AND EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE DRUNKEN SCREW UPS UNDER YOU IS GOING TO BE COURT MARTIALED AND I'LL SEE TO IT YOUR ALL BEHIND BARS UNTIL WELL PAST THE NEXT CENTURY!"

"I'd like to see you pull that off," Greg thought to himself. "Sir, there is a very good explanation for all of this. The thing is, you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"And that, Boyington is the first sensible thing you've said since I arrived, but enlighten me as to the reason why the sudden need for baby items."

Then it hit him as to the reason for them.

"BOYINGTON, IF ONE OF THOSE IDIOTS HAS GOTTEN ANY OF THE NURSES IN TROUBLE AND THERE'S BEEN A SHOTGUN WEDDING, I WON'T COURT MARTIAL YOU AND THE FATHER. IT WILL BE THE FIRING SQUAD FOR BOTH OF YOU!"

Greg wondered just how serious the Colonel was, but he really didn't want to find out either.

"Sir, let me assure you that none of my men have gotten any of the nurses in trouble," Then to himself added. "At least not that I know of and it might be a good idea for us to have another lecture on ways to prevent that and other things from occurring."

Greg then went on to explain about Casey and TJ finding the baby and that they were waiting for Sister Mary Elizabeth to let them know when she would have room at the orphanage to take her in. He purposely left out the fact that they may have found a family to adopt her, since he wanted to talk to General Moore and Sister Mary Elizabeth about that first.

The Colonel, however, was not sure whether or not to believe Greg, but he had heard enough of his excuses for one day and besides he was nearly late for an important meeting.

"Boyington, you can be sure of one thing, I will be back and I will get to the bottom of this even if I have to question every single one of those worthless miscreants out there."

"Sir, what about our supply order?" Greg asked innocently.

"Ooooooh, I'll sign the damn thing, but as I said I will definitely be looking into this matter, you can be sure of that," he replied as he drove off.

Seeing him leave the others stopped their game and Casey came out of Greg's tent with Emily, who had just awakened, but was still half asleep.

"What happened, Pappy?"

"Yeah, what was that all about?"

"Well, it appears Colonel Lard finally saw the baby items on our supply requisition forms and he's convinced that we've kept it from him that one of you has gotten one of the nurses in trouble. When he finds out who the secret "family" is "daddy" and I are going to face the firing squad."

At this statement there was a near riot as they were not sure whether or not Greg was serious about what the Colonel was threatening. Finally, after several minutes of talking with them Greg was able to calm them down and he explained that he planned to talk to General Moore and Sister Mary Elizabeth. First, to explain the situation to General Moore and then to Sister Mary Elizabeth to see how to go about starting the process so TJ's brother and sister-in-law could adopt Emily.

"While I'm arranging those meetings to talk with them everyone else go into the Sheep Pen and begin studying the reconnaissance photos French and Anderson took the other day that Casey will be bringing over in a few minutes. After you all have had a chance to see what's on those photos I expect everyone back in the Sheep Pen after supper at 1900 for a mandatory briefing concerning an upcoming mission."

Later that evening, everyone was waiting for Greg to arrive and they were curious as to what the briefing was going to be about.

"Casey, you get a lot of the radio messages from Espritos Marcos, you have any idea what's going on to explain why Greg called this meeting?" Gutterman asked.

"No, but I do know that he has been getting top secret reports from General Moore for the last few weeks, sometimes several times a day, so I think that something's about to break and we're probably going to be put right in the middle of it."

No one liked the sound of that and when Greg walked in with a stack of papers they grew very quiet.

"Everyone had better have looked over those photo's this afternoon because I just got word that what's on those pictures is only scratching the surface."

"What do you mean?"French, Bragg, and Anderson asked.

Greg passed around some additional photos.

"These just came in from General Moore's office. They're clearer photos taken, from a lower altitude, by a Navy squadron that was flying over the area in question at the same time as those rice balls were out on a patrol, so they didn't have any trouble getting so close. They thought General Moore would be interested in what was in the pictures and since this is the area we're going to be concerned with he was definitely interested. Looking at the pictures you can see why, if you look closely you'll notice that we're not dealing with an average bombing mission."

"Crap," Bragg said. "Is that an explosives manufacturing plant?"

"Not to mention I'm positive I'm looking at an ammunition dump," Boyle added pointing to an area on the photo he, TJ, and French also were looking at.

"So not only are we having to deal with the Zeros and those two big fuel storage tanks that we saw on the photos this afternoon, but enough incendiary power to cremate us if we're not careful," Casey commented.

Greg stood there taking in their reactions.

"You bet your sweet aunts we are," he replied. "That means we're going to have to go about this from a different perspective than I had originally planned.

Bragg raised his hand.

"Pappy, are those Zeros on patrol at the same time every day?" he asked.

Greg shuffled through a stack of papers he had set on the bar and finding the one he wanted skimmed over it for a few paragraphs.

"Yeah, they only deviated from the schedule a couple of times in the last few months and that was due to thick cloud cover in the area."

"So why not go in while they're gone, blow the hell out of the island, and then we get 'em when they return," Gutterman suggested.

"It might be dangerous, but we've flown dangerous missions before. Hell, some of those missions we practically created ourselves and then when it was over asked ourselves what were we thinking," Boyle admitted.

"We could have two teams, one team could incinerate what's on the island and the second team could stay back a ways and watch for the Zeros to return, as well as keep them from attacking the first team. Then when the first team joins up with the second we see how much damage we can do to them," French added.

 _I had to admit it; it just might work although it was going to take a hell of a lot of coordination and teamwork from everyone. Plus, I had to get it through their heads that the odds were good that some or all of us might not make it back. Still, if they were willing to take the risk who was I to stop them._

"What do you say Greg?"

"Yeah, Pappy, we can do it!"

Greg looked at each of them.

"You meatheads realize that some or all of us might not make it back and this is probably one of, if not the most dangerous mission we've flown simply because of the amount of incendiary power and explosives we're dealing with?"

No one said anything, but all heads nodded in understanding.

"All right, give me a few days to get everything finalized. We'll have another briefing then to make sure that everyone is clear on what's going on. I will say one thing, however those in the first team are going to have to take out everything on the first pass, since I have my doubts that we'll be able to go back through and destroy what we missed anytime soon as those rice balls will have heavy air and sea patrols over anything that we can't get, any questions? All right dismissed."

No one said a word as they left the Sheep Pen; they were all too stunned as the reality of what they were going to do hit them.

"Message for you, Pappy," Casey said later the next morning as he found him talking with Hutch about the upcoming mission.

"Thanks, I hope it's our orders for when we take off," Greg said taking it from Casey. He looked it over, putting it back in his shirt pocket slightly disappointed. "No and Lard's crazy if he thinks anyone's going to take this crap seriously."

Then taking it from his shirt pocket he read it again and a thought crossed his mind.

"Casey, post this in the Sheep Pen I think we can have some fun at Colonel Lard's expense," he said smiling.

"What was that about?" Hutch asked as Casey headed towards the Sheep Pen.

"The Colonel wants suggestions on how we think he is doing his job and how we feel he can do it better as well as suggestions on how to improve moral. It's something that he heard about while he was at a conference in Washington, D.C. a few weeks ago and he wants to implement some of the suggestions, if at all possible."

Hutch looked at Greg wondering if he had heard him correctly.

"I know," Greg replied. "Personally, I think Lard's full of prunes, but as I just told Casey I see this as an opportunity for us to have some fun at Lard's expense. He wants feedback and suggestions and if I know these guys they're going to give him some feedback and suggestions, but whether or not they're appropriate isn't my problem."

"He asked for it and you all are going to give it to him," Hutch said.

"You got that right," Greg replied.

It was a week later and the Black Sheep were still awaiting word as to when they were going to carry out the mission to bomb the targets on Bougainville. In addition, Sister Mary Elizabeth was waiting on paperwork from her order in the United States regarding interviews and assessments on the suitability of TJ's brother and sister-in-law to be Emily's parents. Greg had spoken to General Moore about that particular situation and as a result Colonel Lard was off his back, at least in regard to Emily, who was now three months old and had outgrown the basket. TJ and Casey had made her a bed from a large wooden box and several of the nurses had taken a blanket and some stuffing, from some old pillows, and made a mattress for it. Right now, she was outside with Anderson and Bragg. Greg was laying on his cot mentally trying to work out how he wanted to go about taking out the three targets on Bougainville once they got the go ahead to proceed. He hadn't realized he had drifted off to sleep until a soft bleating in his ear awoke him and he found himself eye to eye with a very tiny, black lamb.

"What are you doing in here?" he said to himself. Then he glanced around his tent and noticed three other full grown literal black sheep wandering around.

"I must be dreaming," he thought.

He knew he hadn't been drinking, at least not since last night, and even then he hadn't had as much as he usually did, so what other explanation could there be for three sheep and a lamb to be wandering around his tent.

Just then French and Boyle ran into his tent.

"Finally, we found them!" Boyle exclaimed excitedly.

"Found what?" Greg asked not in a very good mood after being awakened from a nap and still not quite sure what was going on.

"The four lost sheep. We've searched almost the entire camp and couldn't find them anywhere," Boyle explained.

"So happy to be of assistance Little Beau Peep, now could one of you tell me what is going on and why in the hell do I have four sheep in my tent?"

"They arrived an hour ago on a cargo plane," French told him.

"What did?" Greg was still half asleep and it wasn't quite registering with him what they meant.

"The black sheep," Boyle replied as if it was a common occurrence for them receive livestock."

"You're the Black Sheep or you were the last time I checked," Greg sat up even more confused and the baby lamb walked over and nuzzled against him.

"Not us, these black sheep, all 214 of them," French said trying to clear things up.

"WHAT!" Greg stood up and walked to the door looking out. "YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT THERE ARE 210 MORE BLACK SHEEP RUNNING AROUND OUT THERE!"

French and Boyle nodded.

"AND HOW IN THE HELL DID THEY GET HERE AND WHY DIDN'T ONE OF YOU MORONS WAKE ME UP SO I COULD TAKE CARE OF THIS SITUATION. TELL ME THAT GOD DAMMIT!" he shouted turning around.

"Apparently," French explained. "Whoever processed the last supply form you sent in mistook our squadron name and number for part of the order, so VMF 214, the Black Sheep, are now, at least for the time being, the owners of 214 black sheep.

"Casey is on the radio trying to contact someone who can straighten out the mistake and Gutterman, TJ, and Hutch are trying to get them corralled behind the Sheep Pen. They're not having much luck, as the sheep keep escaping and we've all been chasing them through the camp," Boyle added.

"However, Emily is having fun with the other 13 baby lambs, but I don't think I can say the same for Anderson and Bragg as they keep trying to nibble on their pants pockets, not to mention one of them made a mess on Anderson's boots," French said.

Greg realized that meant there were 200 adult sheep and 14 baby lambs that he had to do something about.

"I think I better get out there and see what I can do to help get them rounded up," he said keeping his voice as calm as possible under the circumstances. "Go tell Casey that as soon as he hears anything to let me know and you two get these four lambs back with the others."

It took most of the afternoon, but finally everyone had gotten the sheep corralled in the fenced in area, that Gutterman, TJ, and Hutch had constructed behind the Sheep Pen. Greg would be the first one to admit that he had just about had all he could stand, as far as sheep were concerned, and they still had to solve the problem of what to do with the 214 they had now.

Greg had not heard anything out of Casey, yet regarding that matter and so he headed over to see what was going on. When he walked in he found Casey on the phone and not in very good humor. Casey, seeing Greg walk in, motioned for him to listen quietly and nodding Greg sat down on the corner of the desk wondering what was going on.

"No, Sir, we do not need any livestock...we are wanting to get rid of livestock, sheep, black ones, 214 to be exact...What's that...yes, yes we are, but I'm talking about four legged, wooly mammals that go baa, not a Marine fighter squadron based out of Vella La Cava."

Greg wondered who was more confuzzled Casey or whomever he was talking to.

Casey was silent for a few minutes.

"What, oh I see, okay, I understand these things do happen, but what are we to do in the meantime? I don't know if he'll be too happy to hear that, but I'll give him the message. You have a great afternoon too, goodbye."

Casey hung up the phone and looked at Greg.

"I have been on the phone for at least three hours, I have called everyone I could think that might be able to help us and I have been transferred to I don't know how many offices. Finally, I was connected to someone in Washington, D.C."

"And what did they say?" Greg asked certain he was not going to like the answer.

"They said that they processed the order as it was sent in and if we can't fill out the form correctly that's our problem and we'll just have to deal with it, but they cannot do anything about the sheep."

"Casey do you have a copy of the supply form that started all of this?"

Casey went to the filing cabinet, quickly located the file folder he wanted and pulled out the form handing it to Greg. Silently Casey waited as he looked it over.

"Asinine, bureaucratic mistake," Greg said. "Everything is filled out correctly. They just don't know how to read a simple form and as a result I have to deal with the trouble they've caused. You know I'd like to find out who processed this and send them the sheep."

 _It was several weeks before we got rid of the sheep. After making a series of covert liquor_ _trades we finally were put in contact with the captain of a Navy cargo ship who, after implementing what could be considered as some less than above board tactics, we finally talked into taking the sheep off our hands and delivering them to the coast of Ireland. Of course, this was without a major sacrifice on my part as I was forced to give up four of the eight cases of very expensive scotch that had taken me almost a year to get directly from Scotland._


	4. Chapter 4

Things were back to what for the Black Sheep constituted normal. It was a lazy Monday morning just before lunch and having just returned from an uneventful morning patrol everyone was in a fairly good mood when Casey ran into the Sheep Pen.

"Pappy you'd better head over the radio shack and see what's going on Colonel Lard's on the phone and he wants to speak to you now! He says he's not taking any excuses either!"

Greg, who was in a very intense game of cards with TJ, Boyle, French, and Gutterman scowled.

"Okay guys I guess we'll have to resume this later," he said before following Casey back to the radio shack.

"This better be important," he said. Then lowering his voice added. "I was winning that game and winning big."

"Sorry," Casey replied not knowing what else to say.

"Yes Sir," Greg answered picking up the phone. "What did you need to speak to me about?"

"May I begin by saying that I am constantly amazed by the ingenuity of those miscreants that you are in charge of."

"Thank you Sir," Then to himself added. "I think." before he continued. "To what specifically do I owe this honor?"

"I asked for feedback on how I was doing my job, how I could improve, and suggestions on how to improve morale among other things. What I got from Vella La Cava was nothing more than utter nonsense."

"What do you mean Colonel, I gave them clear instructions as to what you wanted and they assured me that they would respond with respect and sincerity when making suggestions to you."

Both Greg and Colonel Lard knew that Greg was lying through his teeth, but neither was going to admit it, especially Greg unless he was caught outright since he was the one who had come up with most of the suggestions in the first place and he had to admit that several of them were quite inventive."

"May I read you a few of the suggestions?"

"Go ahead Sir," Greg was quite anxious to hear whether or not the suggestions were his or if any of the others had outdone him with their creativity.

"First, the Colonel needs to learn when to shut that fat mouth of his up. If he spent more time listening instead of talking, we'd all be a lot happier and things would go a lot smoother. Then there's one that I will not repeat about me, my wife, and ways to improve our, ahem, marital activities, since it seems one of your men thinks I would be in a better mood if things were more risqué in that area."

"Sir, surely you can't be serious they actually submitted suggestions like this?"

Greg was doing his best not laugh those suggestions were even funnier than when they had first been thought up.

"Oh I am definitely serious, Boyington, and it gets better let me tell you. Meatball needs his own personal office with a desk, filing cabinet to store sticks and bones in, dog bed, dog biscuits and treats, and a very hot looking secretary to give him tummy rubs."

"What in the name of all that is sensible does that ridiculous looking dog of yours need with an office, for crying out loud, besides the fact it's against regulations for you to even have him over here?"

Greg took offense at Colonel Lard's calling Meatball ridiculous looking. Of course, Meatball wasn't the best looking dog in the world, but in Greg's opinion he was better looking than Colonel Lard and 100 times more faithful. He did have to wonder why Meatball needed an office when he was perfectly content to lay under his desk or on his cot. Although, he did admit that the idea of a personal secretary did sound intriguing. He wouldn't have minded having a hot looking personal secretary himself, to rub his tummy and he could think of a few other places on his anatomy that would feel good, as well. He thought about asking Colonel Lard if it would be possible for him to be assigned one, but under the circumstances decided it was probably best not to mention it.

"I had no idea, Sir; I assure you that this matter will be looked into and handled in a quick and efficient manner. Those responsible will be handled according to Marine protocol up to and including me, personally, taking the fullest disciplinary action allowed by the Corps."

Colonel Lard was about to say something else, but just then the air raid sirens began going off. Greg was not sure if the Colonel had heard them in the background or not, but at that moment he really didn't care. Greg hung up the phone and then attempted to make it to a cluster of large rocks that were near the radio shack, which would provide a little better shelter.

He could hear several of the Corsairs taking off and he thought about trying to make it to his plane, but decided it would be too dangerous from where he was at. Just then he felt something strike his shoulder and he was thrown several feet, landing in a clump of grasses at the base of a large palm tree. Not knowing what had happened he lay still aware that it sounded as if the Zeros were flying away from the island.

TJ had been unable to make it to his plane and having seen Greg get hit, quickly ran over to him followed by French and Boyle who also hadn't had time to get to their planes, either, before the others had managed to fire at the Zeros and scare them enough that they had hightailed it out of there as fast as they could fly.

"You okay Pappy?"TJ asked.

Then he noticed the red splotch spreading over Greg's shoulder as well as the cut on his forehead.

"Just lay still, Pappy, don't move we'll take care of you."

Greg looked at TJ and wondered why he looked so out of focus. He tried to sit up, but a burst of pain ripped through his shoulder and he felt nauseous. French and Boyle forced him to lie back down.

"You got hit by one of those rice ball's bullets and we don't know how badly you're hurt. Bragg and Gutterman just landed and they've gone to get Dr. Pendleton and Suzette from the hospital," French told him.

Greg started to say something, but suddenly his vision began to dim and he slipped into unconsciousness. When he awoke, Greg found he was lying on his cot back in his tent and the rest of the Black Sheep as well as Hutch were seated nearby looking at him concerned or standing around talking in hushed voices.

"Would one of you guys like to tell me what the hell happened?" he asked. "Or are you all just going to sit around acting like you're waiting for me to die so you can find out if you're in my will?"

"He's awake!" Anderson and Hutch who were seated closest to him said thankfully.

"Pappy, are you okay?" several of the others asked.

"Do I look like I'm okay," Greg asked still in quite a bit of pain. "And what happened exactly, the last thing I remember was the air raid sirens going off and I hung up on a very interesting conversation with Colonel Lard, which reminds me whichever one of you screw heads made that suggestion to Colonel Lard that he and his wife need to get more creative in the bedroom. I'm supposed to discipline you to the fullest extent allowable."

"Um Pappy," Anderson said. "You came up with that one yourself of course you'd just finished your second bottle of scotch in addition to all the other liquor you'd consumed so you were pretty drunk at the time."

Greg stared them in disbelief for a few moments.

"Well, I guess that means you all are off the hook and I think for my punishment I'm going to have a few drinks and see what other suggestions I can come up with."

If Greg could make comments like that they thought he was going to be okay in no time.

"Anyway," Greg continued getting the conversation back on track. "I remember running outside and hearing the planes take off and then something hit my shoulder and I was thrown several feet from the radio shack. I don't remember anything after that until TJ, Boyle, and French were telling me to lie still and a lot of pain in my shoulder."

"That was when you tried to sit up," French told him. "After that you passed out from the pain. Dr. Pendleton and Suzette helped us bring you back here, once he made sure you didn't have a concussion, and then..."

"And then I woke up here surrounded by you meatheads," Greg said finishing his sentence.

"Sorry we're not Miss America contestants," Bragg said from across the room.

Greg gave them a weak smile.

"So am I," he agreed. "So am I."

"Anyway, Casey continued."Four Zeros flew over and gave us a brief strafing. I hit one of them, but we don't think it did much more than some cosmetic damage to the paint. You got struck by a bullet that bounced off a rock and creased your shoulder, and then when you landed in the grass near that palm tree you put a gash in your forehead when you struck it on a rock.

We were scared to death since we couldn't get you to respond when we found you. We didn't want to move you so we sent Bragg and Gutterman to get Dr. Pendleton and Suzette, shortly after they left you started to come around before you passed out again. Dr. Pendleton assured us it would okay to move you back here and then he put eight stitches in your head and 14 in your shoulder, but you'll be fine after a few days rest."

Suddenly Greg looked around as if trying to find someone.

"Where's Emily?" he asked as a feeling of fear overcame him.

"She's fine," Anderson said hoping to calm him. "When the sirens went off she was napping in your tent, remember? Meatball pulled her under your desk and then curled around her for protection. After we got you taken care of, Suzette found them both sound asleep, although Emily was slightly damp." Greg gave each of them a look that seemed to say, "What am I going to do with you people?" "What Pappy?" Gutterman asked.

"You idiots didn't change her after I've lectured you all on how important it is to keep her bottom dry to prevent her from getting diaper rash again?"

"Her face was damp from Meatball licking her. I guess he's got some maternal instincts and was licking her to calm her down like mother dog's do with puppies sometimes?" Casey explained.

Greg sighed with relief.

"Where is she now?" he asked realizing he hadn't seen or heard her.

"She's going to stay in the nurse's quarters with Suzette tonight. Dr Pendleton and Suzette took her back so you could get some rest. TJ's offered to go get her after we get back from routine patrol tomorrow morning," Casey said.

It was two weeks after the Zeros had strafed the island and Greg was pretty much recovered, not that it had been an easy task keeping him from overdoing it. Dr. Pendleton had told him that the only restriction he was placing on him was not to fly until the area where the stitches in his shoulder had had a chance to heal a little more.

Of course, Greg always said that restricted didn't mean no; it meant don't get caught. So, as soon as he had returned with French from having Dr. Pendleton check out his shoulder he immediately followed his own advice and headed for his plane. He probably would have gotten away with it, but Bragg, Gutterman, and Hutch happened to be checking out Bragg's plane as he thought something hadn't sounded right during the morning patrol. The three of them managed to catch him before he got to his plane and it was only after a heated discussion between Greg, Bragg, and Gutterman about them needing him to be recovered in case they got their orders to bomb the oil tanks, explosives plant, and ammo dump on Bougainville that Greg finally realized they were right and headed back to his tent.

Just to be on the safe side, however, Hutch removed a couple fuses from Greg's plane thus ensuring that even if he managed to get in without being caught there would have been no way he could take off.

"How are you feeling, Pappy?" Casey asked catching up with Greg as he was walking across the camp a few days later."Is your head doing okay?, Your shoulder?"

"Yes, Casey, they're both fine?" Greg answered.

"Did Dr. Pendleton give you the go ahead to fly?"

"Yes Casey, you know that I've flown the last three morning patrols."

"Well did he say whether or not you'd be able to tell if there was going to be a change in the weather by how your shoulder felt?"

Greg was becoming a little irritated by Casey's ongoing questions and stopping mid stride he turned and looked at him hands on his hips.

"Casey," he said trying not to sound as exasperated as he felt. "What is it with all the damn questions?"

"I'm just wanting to make sure you really are okay because...well because..."

"Casey spit it out will you," Greg said his voice rising just a little bit.

"Okay, this just came for you," Casey said handing him a piece of paper.

Greg looked at it and looked at Casey with a mixture of relief and dread.

"I guess since you took the message you already know that we take off in four days for Bougainville?"

Casey nodded.

"Tell everyone I want them in the Sheep Pen at 1400 for an important meeting and if they ask what it's about; tell them they'll find out when they get there."

After Casey had left Greg stood looking at the paper. For some reason, in the back of his mind, he had this feeling that this mission was not going to turn out well and there would be nothing he could do about it.

The Sheep Pen was very quiet as everyone waited for Greg to start the meeting.

"I'm just going to come right out and say it," Greg said. "We've got our orders clearing us for that bombing mission I talked to you all about a couple of weeks ago."

"When," A few of them asked.

"In four days that will give me time to get the teams assigned?" Greg replied.

Everyone was silent. They had had time to think about the mission the last few weeks; and most of them, while still wanting to fly it, had hoped that General Moore and Colonel Lard would find some reason, whether fabricated or actual they didn't care, to hand it over to another squadron.

"You aren't having second thoughts are you?" Greg asked.

"No Pappy...No Greg...Of course not...We all agreed we could do this."

Greg couldn't have been prouder of them than he was at that moment. They knew the risks that were involved and weren't going to let it stop them or cause them to think about backing out at the last second.

"All right then plan on us being on the flight line at 0500 on Friday. I'll have the team assignments posted the day before so you'll know who you're flying with and who's leading the teams."

Everyone knew that Greg would be leading one team and it would probably be the one that would be doing the actual bombing.

"Anyone have anything else to say or any questions?" Greg asked.

"Pappy, what about Emily?" TJ asked looking down at her asleep on his lap.

Greg hadn't thought about that, but it was something he'd need to take care of and as soon as possible.

"I'll talk to Suzette. I'm sure one or two of the off duty nurses would be glad to watch her for us. If there's nothing else you are all dismissed except for TJ. I need to talk to you so meet me at my tent in five minutes."

"Am I in trouble?" TJ asked a few minutes later.

"Why do you all always think you're in trouble every time I want to talk to one of you?" Greg asked.

"Because nine times out of ten we usually are," TJ admitted.

"But," Greg added. "I'm usually involved to some extent in whatever it is, too. Aren't I?"

TJ, after a few minutes, nodded.

Greg grinned.

"I thought so. Now what I wanted to talk to you about is the upcoming mission."

TJ looked worried remembering another dangerous mission; when Greg had been sick with malaria, and he had tried to get TJ to remain behind.

Greg saw the look on TJ's face and knew what he was thinking.

"I'm not going to try to talk you out of going on this because I need every pilot I have flying," he assured him. "I'm going to be working on the team assignments for the mission this afternoon and I wanted to talk to you about leading the second team."

TJ didn't know what to say. Actually, he wasn't certain that he had heard Greg correctly the first time.

"You want me lead the second team?" he asked slowly.

"Yes, it's not going to be as dangerous as what the first team will up against, but it's still going have some risks. You all will stay back about 100 miles or so from the island to watch out for the Zeros when they come back from their patrol; and hopefully keep them from reaching the island before we've had a chance to blow everything up. If things go as I hope though, we'll have accomplished that, and rejoined you all by that time. I figure there's probably at least 20-30 Zeros on that island, and whether or not they'll all be on patrol is an unknown factor that I want to account for when putting together the teams."

"Pappy, you know how I am, I can screw up a mission faster than any of us, so why me? I mean it's going to be dangerous enough, but putting me in charge of a team is like sending half the squadron to their deaths before we've even taken off."

"TJ, listen to me dammit, if I didn't think that you could do this I wouldn't be asking you in the first place. Yeah, you definitely had a rough start; and to be honest I wasn't certain at first that I'd made the right decision when I asked you be one of the Black Sheep, but you've come a long way, and like I told you in the hospital, if you hadn't been there on that mission when I was nearly out of it with malaria things would have turned out worse than they did. So, I think...no I know you can do this and this is your chance to prove it to yourself that you can do it. You still mess up every once in awhile, but we all do that and admit it at least you haven't shot me or Gutterman down in quite some time," Greg said smiling.

"No Pappy I haven't," TJ agreed. "If you're certain you want me to lead the second team well I'll do it."

"That's what I wanted to hear. Now I'm going to work on these team assignments and you can tell the others that I don't want to be disturbed while I'm doing that."

The night before what they all knew could very well be their final mission everyone was gathered in the Sheep Pen. Greg walked in carrying Emily, who was contentedly drinking a bottle of formula, and sat down beside Suzette.

At the sight of Emily the others immediately began making a fuss over her.

"How do you like that?" Claire said, pretending to be miffed. "I'm sitting right here, and the minute another girl comes in Don ignores me for her."

"Same here only in my case it's Larry who's ignoring me," Penelope added.

"Jeez girls, she's just a baby," Anderson said. "If you're jealous of a baby you both really have problems."

Just then the jukebox began playing "Stardust."

"If you'll dance with me I think maybe I could forgive you," Claire leaned over and whispered to French.

"And that holds true with me as well," Penelope whispered to Casey.

The four of them got up, Casey took Penelope in his arms and French did the same with Claire before they slowly began gliding across the dance floor leaving Greg and Emily, who had finished her bottle, brought up a couple of tummy bubbles, and was now happily babbling to Meatball, who was sitting on the floor beside them, sitting with Suzette, Gutterman, Bragg, and TJ.

"I saw the flight roster for tomorrow's mission. How come you've got TJ as the second team's flight leader?" Gutterman asked.

Greg took a drink of his scotch before answering.

"I've got TJ as the flight leader because I know he can make quick, rational decisions, follow my orders without argument, and keep a calm, level head if things get to dicey."

"Yeah, and he can screw up a mission worse than any of us. The first time we went out he practically shot me out of the air and he's shot you down twice in the same week. Hell, Pappy, we won't have to worry about where the Zeros are and them taking shots at us; we'll have enough on our hands just keeping an eye out for TJ so he doesn't shoot us down on accident."

Greg didn't like the way Gutterman was talking about TJ and he damn sure wasn't going to let him continue.

"I realize that Gutterman, but he's come a long way skill-wise and you know it as well as I do. How many of us has he shot down recently...in the last few days...weeks... months? I can't think of anything other than Zeros that he has shot down. And don't forget he probably saved my life and all your lives as well, when I was out of it with malaria."

Gutterman was silent for a few moments, not believing what he was hearing. "Oh, so what?...Look at how many missions I've lead without you even being around...how many patrols. And I am your executive officer so that should count for something."

Greg handed Emily to Suzette.

"I understand all that Jim, but in this case I feel more comfortable having TJ lead the second team. I don't want to worry that you'll refuse to follow my orders, go off on some tangent, or get it in your head to do something stupid like going off half-cocked after a bunch of Zeros on your own and wind up shot down and as a result get yourself injured, killed, or taken prisoner. You and I both know that you've done most of those things in the past and I have enough to worry about on this mission without adding those scenarios into the mix."

Gutterman was too stunned to speak for a minute, and Greg could see that his temper was clearly starting to get out of control.

"Okay, Pappy, is that the way it's going to be?"

Greg was doing his best to keep calm, but was finding it extremely difficult.

"Yes Jim, TJ is going to lead the second team and that's final. So, what are you going to do about it?"

Gutterman's temper snapped and he drew back his fist punching Greg squarely in the jaw with a hard uppercut.

"This," he growled."You old fart."

Greg rubbed his jaw too stunned to say anything for a moment.

"That, Gutterman was the worst thing you could have done," he replied slowly, his voice hard.

Then he sent Jim flying across with room with a jab that was twice, if not three times harder, than the one Jim had thrown, as Suzette and Emily, along with Bragg and TJ quickly got up and went behind the bar where it appeared to be a little safer. Claire, Penelope, Casey, and French stopped dancing and followed them as, by this time, Greg and Jim were going at each other with such ferocity that for a few moments it seemed as if they would kill each other. However, no one wanted to jump in the middle and stop them. Jim sent Greg slamming into a table, which immediately broke from the force of impact. Greg got up from beneath the broken pieces of the table and threw him out the door of the Sheep Pen. Then he dove on top of him and the fight continued with as much or more momentum as before.

As everyone followed them outside to see how much longer the fight would go on Anderson and Boyle walked up accompanied by two of the newly assigned nurses that they had become very friendly with, Annaliese and Kathlynn. The four of them were returning from a moonlit walk along the beach.

"What's going on?" Annaliese asked.

"Apparently, Pappy and Gutterman are beating the daylights out of each other," Anderson replied. "But, the way Gutterman likes to shoot off his big mouth it's a frequent occurrence, so we're used to it," he added as they went into the Sheep Pen, but upon seeing the damage that Greg and Jim had caused immediately came back outside and stood with the others watching the fight.

Jim landed a hard shovel hook squarely in Greg's side. He landed on his back, the air knocked out of his lungs and pain radiating through him.

"That's all I need is some broken ribs," he thought."

Jim stood over him taunting him with every insulting remark he could think of.

Finally, Greg managed to get back up and sent Jim flying several feet across the ground. Despite the fact that he felt as if he were going to be sick at his stomach from the pain caused by that last punch from Jim, Greg dove on top of him.

Casey and French looked at each other thinking the same thing as everyone else that was if this didn't end soon someone was going to have to step in and break it up or else they were going to continue until one or the other was killed. It appeared as if that was going to be the case as fueled by anger and adrenaline neither of them showed any signs of backing down.

Then, Greg drew back his fist preparing to let Gutterman have it full force when Jim held up his hands

"Enough, Pappy, enough," he choked through swollen, bloodied lips. His face already a mass of bruises and one eye was swollen shut and purple green in color.

Greg lowered his fist and backed off. He was in the same shape as Gutterman with the addition of a bloody nose that he was not exactly sure wasn't broken and the possibility of several broken ribs, as well.

"French, you and Bragg take him back to his tent and the rest of you get to bed. I expect you on the flight line at 0500. Boyle see to it that these young ladies get back to the nurse's quarters at the hospital safely."

Boyle nodded and led Claire, Penelope, Annaliese, Suzette, who was taking Emily back to the nurse's quarters with her, and Kathlynn to one of the jeeps parked nearby.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Greg awoke feeling like he had taken a very short fall off a very tall cliff, every bone and muscle in his body screamed with pain each time he moved; although thankfully that punch Gutterman had thrown hadn't broken his nose just badly bruised it. His right side was one big purple, green, and yellow bruise, but he didn't think he'd any broken ribs.

He was 99.9% convinced that the best thing to do was to call off the mission for a few days until he'd had a chance to recover from the physical effects of the fight and have Dr. Pendleton check out his ribs. However, if Colonel Lard got wind of the fact that he'd postponed the mission he'd be dropping in before Greg could take his next breath wanting to know what was going on. Greg was certain about one thing and that was if he found out about Greg and Jim's fight both of them were going to be sitting in a military prison for quite awhile.

No, Greg decided it was best to ignore the pain, fly the mission, pray that everyone made it back, and then wait for whatever was going to happen next. Getting up, he headed for the flight line to give everyone a final briefing and last minute instructions.

"How are you feeling, Pappy?" Boyle asked when he walked up.

Greg gave him a sharp look.

"How do you think I'm feeling, Boyle? Because I can tell you that I feel about as well or worse than I look that's for damn certain."

Then he looked at the group.

"Where's Gutterman?" he asked his voice hard.

"He's still in bed. I woke him up when I got ready and he said to tell you he couldn't fly after the fight you two had last night, you could take this mission, stick it up your ass sideways, and then do some other things to yourself that I'm 100% certain are physically impossible," French replied.

Greg had really had about all of Jim Gutterman he could take.

"YOU AND BRAGG GO TELL THAT INSUBORDINATE BASTARD HE'D BETTER HAVE HIS WORTHLESS ASS OUT HERE READY TO TAKE OFF IN 5 MINUTES BECAUSE IF I HAVE TO GO GET HIM THE SON OF A BITCH IS GOING TO EXPERIENCE A LOT WORSE THAN WHAT I GAVE HIM LAST NIGHT!"

French and Bragg took off. No one else said anything. This was between Pappy and Gutterman and they knew better than to get in the middle of it.

Greg took a few deep breaths and walked around trying to calm down.

"I don't need to get worked up and get myself or all of us killed as a result of doing something stupid because my mind's not focused on what it should be focused on," he thought.

"All right first team is going to take off and head towards the target at angels 23. When we reach Bougainville I'll lead you all in and we'll take out the hangars, then we're going to separate into two groups. I want Bragg and Gutterman to make a second sweep around and drop 500 pound bombs on the ammunition dump. While they're doing that French and I will make a third sweep over the explosives plant. This is going to be the part that we can't screw up on, one mistake and both of us are going to be reduced to nothing."

He waited a few minutes for that to sink in before continuing.

"We'll fly over and drop 500 pound bombs on the explosives plant, as well. Then we get out as fast as possible. We'll regroup with the second team and by then those rice balls will probably be heading back from their patrol, but hopefully TJ, Casey, Anderson, and Boyle can keep them off our tails without too much trouble until we get there. As soon as French and Bragg get back with Gutterman those of us on the first team will take off, then the second team will follow. Oh, and once we get within 200 miles of Bougainville there's to be no radio contact, unless it's absolutely necessary, until we complete the third phase and get 200 miles away from the island. Are you all clear on what everyone's supposed to do?"

Everyone nodded.

"Okay, get ready and good luck."

Greg put his hand on TJ's shoulder as he went past.

"I just want you to know that I have no reservations about you leading the second team and if I did I wouldn't have asked you in the first place. So, once we regroup don't let Gutterman give you any trouble, if he gets too out of line he's going to find himself in hot water once we land because whether or not he realizes it he's just about pushed his luck with me, as far as I'm concerned."

"Thanks Pappy, but and I'm almost ashamed to admit it..."

You're scared?" Greg finished the sentence for him.

"Yeah, you still think you made the right choice for the second team's leader?"

"TJ, that's normal, I'd be more concerned if you weren't afraid, and I can honestly say that for the last several days and nights I've been so stressed out over this mission that I hardly slept at all. I'm terrified that something's going to go wrong and this isn't going to end well, but I've got to push that aside and get us through this. A little fear is healthy, but not to the point that it paralyzes you or causes you take unnecessary risks just to prove you're braver than the next person. And thank God I don't see you at that point yet as far as this mission is concerned. Does that help any?"

TJ looked at Greg. If he had the guts to admit how scared he was and was willing to face it down and take whatever happened as it came, well he could too and show everyone else besides.

"Yeah," he said. "It does and don't worry, Pappy, we'll all come back."

"I hope you're right, TJ, I really hope you're right," Greg said to himself as he headed towards his plane.

French and Bragg arrived at the flight line a short time later with a very irate Gutterman, who didn't say anything, but gave Greg a hateful look as he passed him on the way to his plane.

"He cause either of you any trouble?" Greg asked.

"No, but he's madder than a wet cat at you," French said. "He did nothing, but call you every off color, derogatory name he could think of and several I'd never heard of, the entire time we were forcing him to get ready and then he said that as soon as we get back he's going to beat you worse than he did last night. Then he went off on TJ and what he'd like to do to him if he ever got the opportunity. The two of us threatened to knock him out and dump him on a Japanese held island if he didn't shut up and that seemed to do the trick."

It didn't surprise Greg that they wouldn't have done it either.

"Okay, once we regroup we all need to watch TJ's back, as far as Gutterman's concerned. I've already talked to TJ and he knows to keep alert in case Gutterman tries anything once we regroup."

 _I hated to admit it, but I probably should have confined Gutterman to his tent leaving Bragg and French to guard him until the rest of us got back and under ordinary circumstances I wouldn't have considered doing anything else. However, these were not ordinary circumstances and the fact that I needed everyone in the air gave me no choice, but to have him fly with us. I just hoped that I wouldn't regret it before we were finished._

Although they were not under radio silence for most of the flight towards Bougainville, there was none of the usual talking and camaraderie that normally occurred among the Black Sheep during the flights. Greg chalked it up to nervousness and didn't attempt to force them into conversation. Hopefully, the flight back would be a different story.

"From this point on I want everyone to cease radio contact until we regroup. TJ, you and your team patrol here while we take out the island. I doubt if you'll have anything to worry about for awhile, but some of those Zeros may try to sneak up on us."

"Will do, Pappy, and good luck."

"Thanks TJ we need all of it we can get."

Greg, Gutterman, French, and Bragg headed towards the targets leaving TJ, Casey, Boyle and Anderson patrolling the area 100 miles from there in all directions.

Greg's team located the planes and airstrip from the air without any trouble, a few Zeros were visible on the airstrip and for a few minutes Greg was worried that they were about to fly into a trap, but it quickly became apparent that those Zeros must have been grounded for repairs as they were able to blow up the planes, the buildings near the airstrip, and almost the entire airstrip with no problem.

"I'd like to see them take off now," Greg thought as he looked down at the burning planes and buildings below.

Bragg and Gutterman had already circled around and were preparing to take out the ammunition dump. However, as they flew off, Greg could tell that Jim wasn't concentrating and that his mind was literally and figuratively in the clouds.

"He's going to get it when we get back to Vella La Cava. This isn't the time to be doing a half assed job." Greg thought.

Just then the ammunition dump went up in a spectacular display of flames and thick black smoke. He couldn't think about Gutterman right now, however, as he and French had to take out the explosives plant.

Having sent the ammunition dump up in a burst of flames, Bragg and Gutterman headed towards their second target, the fuel tanks. A few minutes later as they flew over dropping the bombs right on target another blast of flames and smoke rose into the air as the fuel tanks were consumed by the impact of the bombs. This left only the explosives plant to be taken out and then regroup with TJ, who hopefully did not yet have to deal with any of the Zeros.

The explosives plant was hidden by the jungle overgrowth below, which lead Greg to believe that the Japanese hadn't wanted it known what they were in the process building. In fact, it was so well hidden that Greg almost flew over it before he realized what they were coming upon. He debated whether or not to switch back to radio frequency so that he and French could communicate easier, as it appeared that taking out the plant was going to be more difficult than he had anticipated due to the heavy jungle growth covering it. However, not knowing who might be listening in he decided to continue with radio silence.

Holding his breath, he and French continued in the direction they had been heading and in near synchronized succession they dropped the bombs over what Greg hoped was the main part of the plant. Then ascending to 30 angels they barely made it out of danger when the exploding bombs ignited the contents of the plant and a loud boom shook the island with such force that Greg and French both felt it in their planes.

As flames, smoke, and vegetation flew into the air. Greg could feel himself growing faint from fear as he realized how close they had come to being burnt to death and he wondered if French was feeling the same way. He shook the feeling off as he and French headed back to regroup with TJ and his team.

By the time they had nearly reached the point where the second team was patrolling Greg, at least, had calmed down considerably. Just as they had resumed radio communication TJ's voice came in clearly panicked.

"Pappy, we've got trouble. How close are you?"

"I hear you TJ, what's going on?" Greg responded detecting a sigh of relief from TJ.

"There're at least 20 Zeros attacking us. They came in all at once, and we don't know how much longer we can continue fighting them."

"Shit," Greg said under his breath."We're on our way TJ just hang on."

By the time Greg, Bragg, Gutterman, and French joined up with TJ, Casey, Boyle and Anderson; Casey had downed one of the Zeros, but four against 19 still was not very good odds. However, Boyle shot down two more of the planes; TJ, with Greg's help, sent three more spiraling into the ocean. Then in quick succession Casey, French, and Bragg each brought down two; although one of the Zeros managed to do some cosmetic damage to the side of Casey's plane before Casey blew it up in a brilliant blast that reduced it to nothing more than a cloud of smoke. Greg took out three more one after the other.

Then, after a brief game of cat and mouse, Anderson managed to place a well timed shot through one of the Zero's canopies splitting the pilot in half at the same time. The now pilotless plane spun wildly towards the ocean where it was quickly swallowed by the water below. The other four Zeros decided that the Black Sheep were too much for them and headed for the horizon. Knowing that they might have reinforcements on a nearby island that were waiting to take off Greg told everyone to stay together, but as he had been expecting him to do Gutterman took off after them.

"Did you hear what I said, Gutterman, get back in formation, now!

Greg was getting very, very pissed off at Gutterman and as far as he was concerned this was the last straw. When they got back to Vella La Cava Jim was going to have faced the consequences and he wasn't going to like the outcome. Greg then noticed that Gutterman was continuing to ignore his order.

"IF I HAVE TO COME AFTER YOU GUTTERMAN, I WILL SHOOT YOU DOWN. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?" Greg yelled into the radio.

That definitely got Jim Gutterman's attention and he turned and rejoined the group. Suddenly, Boyle glanced to the side and saw four Zeros tailing them although they hadn't attacked yet he was certain it was only a matter of time before they did.

"Pappy, four Zeros behind us at 3 o'clock."

Greg looked back and noted that while they seemed to just be cruising along he had a very uncomfortable feeling that they were up to something.

"Stay alert, but don't do anything stupid. Let them make the first move. Do you understand that command Gutterman?" he added sternly.

Everyone answered affirmatively except for Gutterman, which didn't escape Greg's attention.

Then, a short time later, all hell broke loose as the four Zeros attacked without warning. Boyle managed to shoot one, blowing one of its wings off and sending it streaking downward to the ocean where it remained on the surface of the water for a few minutes before quickly sinking. The pilot of one of the other Zeros had his sights clearly set on Greg and almost had him a few times. Greg felt the bullets hitting the exterior of the plane and he knew that Hutch was going to be really pleased with the damage that the plane was sustaining.

Greg dove and spun putting the plane through moves that even he wasn't convinced were doable, but still the Zero stayed glued to him like bubble gum in a six-year-old boy's hair. Greg sent the plane downward and then pulled up quickly hoping that the Zero would grow tired of this game of tag, but no. He tried everything he could possibly think of, aeronautically, to shake him off or at least put himself in a position where he could flame the Zero, but the pilot was one persistent rice ball.

Greg knew it was only a matter of time before the pilot lost patience and decided to try to finish him off once and for all. Before that happened, however, Greg dove once more and it was a good thing he did as the plane suddenly exploded in midair. Greg looked out the window and saw French giving him the thumbs up indicating he had been the one to blow up the Zero and in all probability save Greg's life.

"PAPPY TWO OF THEM ARE ON MY TAIL, HELP!" TJ yelled over the radio.

Bragg managed to blow one of them out the air. However, the other Zero fired and the next thing the Black Sheep knew TJ's plane was spiraling towards the water. There was a brief moment of stunned silence.

"TJ pull up," Greg thought. Then as it looked as if that wasn't going to happen he changed the plea to "TJ bail out."

The minutes ticked by and as the distance between the plane and the water narrowed. Greg knew that if he didn't bail out soon he'd go down with the plane.

Then, Anderson's voice came over the radio, "Pappy look!" as TJ finally bailed out of the plane.

The Zero, however, was intent on finishing him off and fired at the descending figure attached to the chute. It appeared to miss its target and Greg getting as close as he dared let loose with every ounce of fire power he had.

"THAT'S FOR TJ YOU GOD FORSAKEN BASTARD!" He screamed as the Zero exploded into a million pieces.

Then Casey's voice came over the radio.

"I contacted Air Sea Rescue with the coordinates and they should be here in a few hours as they're returning from another rescue, they're almost to Espritos Marcos now, but then they have to refuel before they can go after TJ."

"Alright, what's our damage assessment?" Greg asked. "I know that rice ball really did some damage to the sides of my plane."

"I'm hit," Anderson replied. "My oil pressure's low, but I'm not leaking any fuel."

"Okay," Greg replied. "French you and Boyle follow him back. Anyone else sustain any damage?"

"My engine's sounding funny," Casey said. "And the plane keeps acting like it wants to pull to the left."

Greg didn't like the fact that counting TJ's they now had three planes out of commission.

"Great, okay then you can follow them back, too and if no one else has any major damage how are we on fuel levels, starting with you Gutterman."

Much to Greg's surprise Gutterman answered.

"I've got about 150 gallons."

"Fine, then you can stay here until Air Sea Rescue arrives and make sure that TJ's covered."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Gutterman replied.

Hutch was waiting near the airstrip at Vella La Cava with Meatball for the Black Sheep's return. He looked towards the horizon and saw four black dots growing larger.

"What?" he thought.

He didn't like what he was seeing, especially when two of the planes appeared to be in trouble.

Anderson and Casey pulled their damaged planes off to the side and then joined Boyle and French who were having an animated conversation with Hutch.

"Looks like you all had some trouble," Hutch commented.

"The main part of the mission went smoothly. TJ's team however got attacked by 20 Zeros. They'd shot down one of them before Greg's team got there and then we made short work of the rest with four of them retreating." French replied.

"What about the others?" Hutch asked warily.

"They'll be along about 200 miles past where we fought those 20 Zeros we were attacked by four more. Three of them were taken care of, but one got TJ," Boyle explained.

Hutch's face turned white at that statement

"He made it out and we contacted Air Sea Rescue. Gutterman's supposed to stay with the plane until they arrive," Boyle continued.

Just as he had finished Greg and Bragg flew in. The two of them walked over and Greg filled Hutch in on more details about the mission. As they were talking the sound of a Corsair could be heard in the distance.

"Casey, how long did Air Sea Rescue say it would take for them to get to TJ?" Greg asked.

"An hour or two at the most, they were almost to Espritos Marcos after rescuing a downed pilot just off the coast of New Georgia. After they take him to the hospital and refuel they'll head over and pick up TJ," Casey replied. "Why?"

Greg and the others turned to look to the end of the runway where Gutterman's Corsair was taxiing in.

"Then someone explain to me what in the hell Gutterman's doing back already," Greg said.

"Care to explain how Air Sea Rescue picked TJ up so quickly?" Greg asked when Gutterman walked up.

"They haven't got to him yet and I got sick and tired of flying around waiting on them," he said.

"You were under orders to stay with TJ until he was safely picked up," Greg was using every ounce of strength to avoid giving Jim a worse beating than he had given him the other night.

"He'll be okay. TJ's a big boy. If he's able to lead a team he's able to survive being in the water a few hours," Gutterman replied giving Greg a smug look.

"How in the hell could you leave him?" Greg was now more than fed up. "You know we were attacked twice and if a group of Zeros see him out there he's done for; you know that as well as I do."

"I know you can go to hell," Gutterman shot back walking away.

"Get back here now, Jim, I'm not finished with you yet."

"Shut up, Pappy, shut the god damn hell up."

"Better do as he says," Boyle advised.

Gutterman turned and walked over to him.

"Stay out of it, Boyle, or..."

"Or what?" Boyle asked.

"Or this," Gutterman struck him square in the jaw sending him backwards onto the ground. French and Bragg each grabbed one of Gutterman's arms holding him so that he couldn't hit Boyle further.

"Take him to that storage shed, lock him in there, and stand guard until he cools off," Greg said through clinched teeth. "I'll deal with him after I know that TJ is safe."

Casey had already headed for the radio shack to get in contact with Air Sea Rescue.

"Pappy, this just came in and I think you need to read it, right now!" Casey said finding Greg in the Sheep Pen an hour later.

Greg unfolded the paper and as he glanced around an eerie silence fell over the Sheep Pen. Anderson got up and unplugged the jukebox.

"Pappy, what is it?"

Greg felt as if he were in a dream or more accurately a nightmare as he said.

"There's no sign of TJ. Air Sea Rescue flew over the area several times and didn't see any sign of him or the plane."

 _I couldn't believe what I had just read and at the same time knew that very thing was a very real possibility. I also knew I was going have to write TJ's family and tell them the bad news. What hurt the most was what I couldn't tell them, because I didn't know the answer and that was what had happened to him...had he drowned, been taken prisoner, or already been dead when he hit the water. It was the not knowing that hurt me almost as much as the fact that we were never going to see him again._

That night Greg lay on his cot unable to sleep, every time he drifted off the images of that afternoon would be replayed over and over. He saw TJ's plane hurling towards the water and TJ finally bailing out. Then he would invariably wake up shaking, a cold sweat covering his body. Finally, he forced himself to stay awake and turning over he lay there watching Emily sleeping peacefully in her bed next to him. He reached over and lightly stroked her cheek and she reached up to grasp his finger, holding onto it.

"What," he thought. "Did TJ ever do to deserve what had happened to him that afternoon? Nothing and that was the entire point, none of the men...boys, who had met similar fates, had done one thing to deserve getting killed or injured to the point that their lives were forever changed. TJ, like the rest of them had had his entire life ahead of him, now the way things were looking he was just going to be another name on a list that was getting longer of those who would one day be listed as killed in action.

Emily, if the adoption went through, would have only the memories that he and the other Black Sheep shared with her about her Uncle TJ, since Greg knew that TJ wanted everyone to remain in contact with her once the war was over.

"Stop thinking like that," he said out loud. "TJ is going to be found and he will be all right. You have to believe that to some extent otherwise; you'd have already sent a letter to his family, instead of putting it off like you keep doing."

Eventually, he grew so tired that sleep overcame him and he let himself drift into a dreamless albeit unsound sleep. Suddenly, he was jolted awake by what sounded like an old washing machine.

"Damn you Charlie," he yelled sitting up in bed.

He could take comfort in the fact that he wasn't the only one to have had his sleep interrupted by Washing Machine Charlie, as the other Black Sheep rushed out of their tents in various stages of undress and cussing a blue streak. They were about as overjoyed as Greg at being awakened in the middle of the night out of a sound sleep. The annoying thing was that this was the third time this week that it had happened.

French and Boyle both fired at the plane, but if they hit it, the shots did little more than do cosmetic damage to the exterior of the plane. However, they figured if they didn't hit him they got a little too close for comfort because the next thing they knew Charlie dropped a bomb into the jungle near the camp. Everyone fell to the ground and curled up protecting themselves as much as possible as the ground shook and a brief burst of flame rose into the air. Several of them wanted to go see what he had hit, but Greg put a stop to that idea saying it was too dangerous for them to go prowling around the jungle in the middle of the night.

As the sound of Charlie's plane died away everyone slowly began to get up and dust themselves off.

"First thing tomorrow, after the morning patrol, several of you go see what he hit this time," Greg said. "Right now though everyone get back to bed and try to get some sleep."

It was a fairly unexciting morning patrol, Casey sighted a Japanese submarine on the surface of the water near New Georgia, however, for some unknown reason, before the Black Sheep could get a chance to fire on it, the submarine sank beneath the water.

"I'll let General Moore and Colonel Lard know about sighting that sub and the rest of you decide who's going to check out the damage caused by Washing Machine Charlie's visit last night," Greg said once they had landed.

Casey, Boyle, Anderson, and French agreed to go and Bragg went to have Hutch check out the reason why his plane kept acting like it was going to stall and then seem to be okay again. It had happened three times during the patrol and if it was one thing Greg didn't need it was another pilot down in the water.


	6. Chapter 6

The four of them made their way through the jungle for almost two hours before they finally found the site of impact and they were not happy with what they discovered.

"Aw great!" Boyle exclaimed.

"I'll kill him, dammit, I'll kill him and feed him to the sharks for this," French yelled.

Casey and Anderson both stood there too stunned to say anything. Washing Machine Charlie had toppled a banana and two coconut trees all with an over abundance of ripe fruit as well as killing two more wild pigs, but that was not the reason for them being so distraught. The source of the flames they had seen last night had been the result of Charlie scoring a direct hit on the still, which the Black Sheep had set up in the jungle.

"We may as well take this fruit and the pigs back," Casey said.

"We will," French replied. "However, first we're going to try to salvage what we can of the still and with a little luck we might be able to rebuild it."

When Washing Machine Charlie hit something, he really hit it and there wasn't much left of the still to salvage. French and Boyle carried what remained of the still and Anderson and Casey took off their shirts and filled them with coconuts and bananas. They would have to come back for the pigs as there was no way to drag them back to camp. As they made their way back to camp French commented dejectedly.

"We've lost TJ and now the still. If anything else goes wrong I'm going to really get mad."

Greg was standing outside the Sheep Pen holding Emily and talking with Bragg when they made their way back into camp.

"Don't tell me he hit the still!" Bragg exclaimed.

"Not only did he hit it, he destroyed it," French replied. "This is all that's left of it."

He and Boyle sat a few pieces of copper tubing, some pipes, and some other parts that were now beyond being identifiable.

"I thought I told you guys to dismantle that still months ago. If Colonel Lard discovered it that would be the end of us, as far as the Black Sheep are concerned, and besides have you ever known us to have a liquor shortage?"

"No Pappy," they said.

"Then why make it when we can trade for it? We've got a great little system worked out here for ourselves and you have to admit that, as long as no one slips up, the chances of Colonel Lard catching on are practically next to nothing. So, the way I see it at least one good thing came from Washing Machine Charlie's late night fly over and bombing run last night and that is he probably saved our necks by unknowingly destroying the still. Now, anything else you'd like to tell me?"

"Uh, yeah Pappy, where do you want us to put these bananas and coconuts so we can go back and get the pigs he killed?" Casey asked.

Normally, Greg would have welcomed another pig or two, but as they had just finished the four that were killed during the storm, that had hit the island a few months ago, they all were really sick and tired of pork, in all its various forms. Still, it was free food and why let it rot in the jungle or be eaten by some other animals when they could enjoy it.

"Do like you did after the storm, get some empty boxes from the Sheep Pen, put them in there and then put the boxes behind the bar. The bananas won't last very long in this heat, so just set them out for whoever wants them. You all know what to do with pig." Then he added to himself. "I hope after this it's a long time before another wild pig is killed anywhere near this camp, if we eat anymore we all might just be going whee, whee, whee all the way home once this war is over," he thought smiling at his humorous take on the children's rhyme This Little Piggy Went To Market.

The morale among the Black Sheep was at an all time low although, luckily, things were fairly quiet as far as the war was concerned and so the only flying to be done was the morning and afternoon patrols of The Slot, which Anderson and Boyle conducted. They never said anything, but on at least one and sometimes both of the patrols each day they flew over where TJ had gone down hoping to see some sign of him, but the only thing below them was the vast Pacific Ocean and if Greg was aware of what they were doing he didn't say anything about it.

Gutterman remained locked up with French and Bragg standing guard most of the time. Greg could usually be found at his desk trying to bring himself to write the dreaded letter to TJ's family and also start the process of filing formal charges against Gutterman. Two days had passed since TJ's plane had been shot down, let alone any indication of whether or not he had survived and still Greg couldn't get up the courage to do either one. In regard to the first matter he still had this feeling that TJ was alive and if that were the case he didn't want to cause his family any suffering for no reason. In regard to the second matter he just didn't feel like filling out the necessary paperwork and contacting Colonel Lard, under the circumstances, both of which he knew he would be required to do. The rest of the Black Sheep were usually sitting in the Sheep Pen staring at the tables or out the window. Even Emily sensed their sadness and was quiet, most of the time, while she was being held by one of them.

A full moon hung over Vella La Cava making it almost as bright as day. Everyone was sitting in the Sheep Pen although the only sounds to be heard were the night animals scurrying about in the jungle, Meatball's tail occasionally thumping on the floor as he dreamt whatever canine dreams were drifting through his mind, and Emily's sighs and soft noises as she slept with her head resting on Casey's shoulder. Greg stared at the glass of scotch in front of him, not really caring if he drank it or not. Some guys when they were upset went out and got drunk to mask their pain. Greg, at this point, was too upset to do even that. Boyle and Anderson got up and as they did so Greg looked over at them.

"We're going to relieve Don and Jerry on guard duty, not that there's much going on in here, but they might want to come in for awhile anyway. Greg just nodded and went back to staring at his drink.

"He giving you two any trouble?" Boyle asked when they walked up.

"Nah," French replied. "Earlier he was cussing worse than a sailor denied shore leave, but he's been quiet for the last hour. I think he's passed out. You two should have heard him, though. He was calling Greg names I'd never heard before in my life and then he started in on the Marine Corps in general and how once Greg let him out of this shed he was going to knock us all to kingdom come."

"You think he's going crazy?" Anderson asked concerned.

"Nope, I just realized he's probably stinking drunk," Jerry explained.

"WHAT!" Boyle and Anderson exclaimed.

"Yeah, remember we put those cases of scotch, rum, whisky and bourbon that we got from Walter Schlotsky's unit in here and covered them with a tarp so that Greg wouldn't drink all the scotch and trade the rest of it for more scotch."

"Who's Walter Schlotsky?" Anderson asked still not clear about where the liquor had come from.

"Remember that Army unit that was on Espritos Marcos a couple of months ago?" French asked.

"Wait a minute, skinny, bookish looking, young man with glasses?" Anderson asked suddenly remembering who they were talking about.

"Yeah, he was their company clerk and let's just say Bragg, Casey, TJ, and I helped him fudge on some very important paperwork and as a way of saying thanks for getting his unit's neck out of the fire they sent us all of that liquor," French said.

"Which Gutterman has probably already drunk most of by now," Bragg said dejectedly.

Fortunately, Gutterman had only discovered the liquor earlier that afternoon and as a result he had only had time to finish off three fairly good sized bottles of the whiskey, which was still enough to leave him passed out for several hours. Once they realized that, Bragg, French, Anderson, and Boyle slipped into the shed and removed the remaining cases of liquor to the maintenance shed, where Hutch promised that if for some reason Greg asked about where it had gone he would simply say that he didn't know.

It was late the next day and with still no word on TJ it was looking as if they were never going to see him again. Greg had started several letters to TJ's family, but each time he got too choked up and had to quit, forcing himself to try again later. He was now sitting in the Sheep Pen, after trying for the eighth time to write the letter and had gotten two paragraphs written before he'd had to stop, tears blurring his vision to the point he could barely see. Anderson, French, and Boyle were seated with him while he tried to get Emily to eat some baby cereal, however she had more of it on her tummy, than in it, not to mention all over her face.

"You know," Anderson commented. "I'm surprised we haven't heard from Colonel Lard or General Moore about TJ being shot down."

"I did," Greg replied. "Why do you all think I was at Lard's office on Espritos Marcos most of the morning? I was giving a full account of what happened and getting my balls chewed off at the same time."

"Why, what did you do?" they all asked at once.

"I was getting blamed for Gutterman's insubordinate behavior."

"That makes no sense, you have no control over what Gutterman or any of us does, for that matter," French replied. "Of course, if you don't like what we're doing or how we're acting you can always take disciplinary measures against us."

Although, it was a known fact, among the Black Sheep, that Greg never took any sort of disciplinary measures against them for three reasons. First, he could usually talk his way out of just about any situation. Second, there was a better than average chance he had been involved in whatever it was they were being accused of, and third, they had probably been so drunk at the time that none of them remembered doing whatever it was they supposedly had done. Greg placed another spoonful of cereal in Emily's mouth.

"I'm the commanding officer around here and so it's my responsibility to make sure that everyone following procedural code and behaving in accordance with the standards of the Corps and if I can't do that then Colonel Lard will be more than happy to replace me with someone who can."

The three of them looked at Greg with fearful expressions. Despite having one of the best combat records, the Black Sheep were not known for following procedural code or behaving in accordance with Marine Corps standards in any way, shape, nor form and it would be a cold day, no make that a day with 100 below zero wind chill, in hell before they did.

"Which," Greg replied. "Ain't going to happen, Colonel Lard can threaten me all he wants, but you all know as well as I do with our air combat record if he tried to break us up he'd have a lot of explaining to do himself. Oh and did I tell you guys that he claims he's going to file disciplinary charges against me."

"That's the fifth time this month!" Anderson remarked.

"Actually, it's the eighth and he read off each offense and there is no possible way he's going to make any of them stick I can guarantee you that, especially one in particular since..."

"Blah, blah, ba," Emily said spitting cereal all over herself, Greg, and French in the process.

"That's exactly what I wanted to tell Colonel Lard," Greg said to her as he cleaned her and himself up, while Boyle and Anderson helped French wipe the cereal off of his shirt.

"What do you mean by that?" French asked.

"I am referring to my being accused of being with General Alderton's 22-year-old daughter on the 14th of last month, around midnight."

"Okay, so you weren't," the three of them confirmed.

Greg looked at them strangely.

"Of course, I was and do you all know what we were supposed to have been doing?"

The three of them shook their heads, although there was a better than average chance it did not involve saying Matins with Sister Mary Elizabeth.

"Well supposedly we were engaged in some less than appropriate behavior which, of course, I denied."

"You weren't?" the three of them couldn't believe it.

Greg was really enjoying dragging this out.

"Of course I was, the three of you have seen General Alderton's daughter, she can cause trouble just by walking into the room. Never mind that her parents think she's as innocent as Emily, but that's about as far from the truth as you can get.

I ran into her at the Officer's Club on Espritos Marcos, where she and her father were having dinner. After dinner, her father had a meeting with General Moore and I agreed to escort her back home. However, instead, we flew back here in my plane and walked down to the beach and ended up swimming naked in the lagoon. Then we spent the rest of the early morning hours getting to know each other very, very well."

Greg let his thoughts drift back to that night and what had gone on between the two of them on the beach. For Angelette to be so young she was very knowledgeable about the more sensual aspects of life and he had been shocked by some of the things that she had suggested they do. He could still feel her gentle touch on his skin as she explored every inch his body and the memory of her soft sighs of pleasure, in response to his light caresses and kisses, would be etched in his mind for quite some time. In her childhood she may have lived up to her name, but that was definitely not the case anymore, if what went on between them that night was any indication.

"But do you think I'd be stupid enough to admit that I was with her?" he asked giving them a very mischievous grin. "Don't answer that because I can tell you the answer is no and as far as we are concerned, if Colonel Lard, General Moore, or her father should ask nothing happened between the two of us, got it."

"Got it," the three of them replied.

Meanwhile, Casey was in radio shack just getting ready to sign off and go to the Sheep Pen when a message came over the radio. Casey listened and then not sure if he had heard it correctly, responded.

"Air Sea Rescue this is VMF-214 on Vella La Cava, repeat the previous message to confirm, over."

"Confirming message VMF-214 at we have found 1st Lt. Thomas Joseph "TJ" Wiley and he is alive, but in bad shape. He was sighted in a life raft 14 miles from where his plane went down on the 8th and immediate rescue was carried out successfully. We are transporting him to Espritos Marcos for further evaluation and treatment, over."

"Roger that Air Sea Rescue, message received, over."

Casey stared at the paper still not sure he believed what he was reading. Switching everything off, he left the radio shack and looked up at the evening sky before heading to the Sheep Pen.

"Please let TJ be okay," he whispered.

Greg and the others were still talking, although the subject had changed to who was going to win the 1942 World Series, the St. Louis Cardinals or the New York Yankees, when Casey ran inside.

"Can I see you outside for a minute, Pappy?" he asked.

Greg handed French the spoon and bowl with just a few more bites of cereal in it.

"Here you can finish feeding Emily while I see what Casey wants," he told him. "What's going on?" Greg asked once they were seated on some crates outside the Sheep Pen.

"I received a message from Air Sea Rescue just before I came over here."

Greg didn't like the sound of that and he liked it even less when Casey said.

"They found TJ and here...," he handed Greg the paper on which he had written the message.

Greg had to read it several times before it began to register with him what it said.

"TJ's alive," he said slowly.

Casey nodded.

"Yeah, but just barely," he replied.

The two of them sat in silence for a few moments, letting the fact that TJ had been found and was alive sink in; then they got up and went back in the Sheep Pen where French was cleaning up after getting Emily to finish her cereal.

"I had to resort to playing airplane with her on the last few spoonfuls," he said. "She took the spoon from me and turned it upside down. It reminded of...," he stopped unable to finish the sentence.

"TJ," Greg said. "Casey just heard from Air Sea Rescue. They found him 14 miles from where he went down. He's alive, but in very bad shape." At first no one knew what to say and then as the realization that TJ was alive hit them they grew excited.

"Calm down," Greg told them. "As I said he's in bad shape so there's still a chance he might not make it." Then to himself added, "But, he sure is putting up one hell of a fight if he's managed to stay alive this long."

"After the morning patrol tomorrow, I'll go over and talk to Dr. Pendleton and get more details as to his condition."

The morning patrol was uneventful except for the fact that instead of returning back to Vella La Cava, the Black Sheep turned and flew over the spot where TJ had been picked up, each of them saying a silent prayer for his recovery as well as thanks that he had been found alive before heading back.

Once they had landed Greg went back to his tent and wrote to TJ's family letting them know what had happened and assuring them that he would contact them immediately and let them know if there was any change in his condition. Meanwhile, the others went into the Sheep Pen and began working diligently over what looked like a heavy piece of paper.

Finished with the letter, Greg came out and headed toward one of the jeeps parked near the airstrip.

"Pappy, wait up," Anderson called as they headed toward him.

Greg stopped and waited by the jeep until they had all got there.

"We made this for TJ," Anderson said. "We even got Gutterman to sign it, although he's still making a stink about being locked up."

"And he's going to stay that way until I see what's going to happen with TJ," Greg thought.

"You're the only one left to sign it," Anderson continued handing Greg the homemade card that they had been working on in the Sheep Pen while he had been writing to TJ's family.

Somewhere they had managed to find some thin cardboard that was white on both sides and on the front Anderson had drawn a realistic looking Corsair and the Black Sheep coat of arms, along with an island complete with a couple of palm trees, some very colorful tropical flowers and a purple, blue, and yellow tropical bird using some ink pens that he had borrowed a few days ago from Allison, who was one of the new nurses to be assigned to the hospital.

"Okay, who's the secret artist?" Greg asked very impressed with the detail that had gone into each drawing.

Anderson raised his hand.

"All I can say is that this is definitely going to cheer TJ up," Greg said looking at them appreciatively. "I'll let you guys know what I've found out when I get back."

When Greg arrived at the hospital he was directed to Dr. Pendleton's office.

"Come in," Dr. Pendleton said upon hearing Greg's knock.

"Good morning, doctor, how's TJ doing?" Greg asked.

"Sit down Greg. I thought you'd probably be in today."

Greg sat down and waited for Dr. Pendleton to continue.

"TJ's definitely not out of the woods, but he's improved very slightly since he was brought in yesterday."

"That's good," Greg thought.

Then he asked. "How serious are his injuries?"

"He's lucky, Greg, very lucky, if Air Sea Rescue hadn't discovered him when they did he'd have been dead in a few hours."

Greg felt a cold chill go through him when he heard that.

Dr. Pendleton continued.

"He's got a large gash on his forehead that was starting to become infected, but we've cleaned and stitched that and I think we've got the infection under control. He's got burns to his hands and arms as well as two bullet wounds; one to the shoulder and one on his side. He's lucky on that one as well, a few inches over and it would have hit a lung. Of course, it's obvious he's suffering from exposure being out in the open water for four days and nights like he was. He's running a fever and we've got him on antibiotics, but I can tell you he's doing his best to recover. I've seen guys in a lot better shape than he is now just give up."

"Could I see him for a few minutes?" Greg asked.

"It might do him some good, but I doubt if he'll say anything or realize you're even there since we've got him sedated," Dr. Pendleton said showing Greg to TJ's room.

"I'll only stay a few minutes," Greg assured him.

"All right, I have to check on some other patients, but if you have any questions about his condition have one of the nurses come and get me before you leave."

Greg nodded and entered TJ's room and even after talking with Dr. Pendleton a few moments ago and being appraised of his condition it still was a shock seeing how bad TJ actually was. Greg pulled a chair up next to TJ's bedside and sat down. He really didn't know what to say for a few moments, so he just sat there thankful that at least TJ was alive.

"You probably don't realize it, but we've been worried sick about you," he said finally. "And I want you to know I blasted the hell out of that rice ball that did this to you. Matter of fact, I hope that's where he is right now."

TJ stirred briefly.

"Pappy?" he said, his voice so faint it was barely a whisper.

Greg was uncertain if he had actually heard him or was only imagining things.

"I'm here TJ," he replied on the off chance that he had actually heard him.

TJ squeezed his hand.

"Thanks," he whispered before he drifted into unconsciousness again.

"You're welcome and TJ you just get better and that's an order," he said wondering if TJ could actually hear him or not.

Then sitting the card on the nightstand by the bed he quietly left the room.

Dr Pendleton was with another patient so Greg left a message with Kathlynn at the nurse's desk about TJ briefly regaining consciousness.

As he left the hospital Greg felt a little better now that he knew TJ was safe and getting treatment for his injuries. Still, he knew he wouldn't be completely happy until TJ was back flying with the Black Sheep. He was walking towards his jeep when the sound of another jeep pulling up to the hospital entrance, for some reason, caught his attention. He stopped, jaw dropping in astonishment as Bragg and French got out half carrying Anderson, who was yelling about how much pain he was in.

"Quit screaming you big baby. We offered to treat you in the Sheep Pen, but noooooo you insisted on being driven over here and so we took time out from helping Hutch fix the carburetor on Boyle's plane and this is the thanks we get. All you've done the entire way over here is whine and complain," French said angrily. "So, put a sock in it will ya."

"Something happen that I should know about?" Greg asked as they neared him.

"Pappy!" Bragg, French, and Anderson exclaimed.

Greg stood by his jeep, arms folded across his chest, his eyes narrowed, and the look on his face clearly told them he was not very happy.

"What happened guys and I want the truth?" he told them.

"Ummm, Anderson was shot in the rear area," Bragg said.

Greg looked at the three of them with a look that clearly said, "What did you just say?"

"What in the hell were you all doing on Espritos Marcos? You all were supposed to stay at camp while I was here seeing about TJ, not running off to Espritos Marcos to get into trouble at the Officers' Club."

"Not that Rear Area," French added by way of explanation.

"You three are making no sense what-so-ever," Greg said becoming even more exasperated than he already was.

"Pappy, are we going to stand here and talk or can I get taken care of?" Anderson said through clinched teeth.

"I'd like to take care of you with a swift kick in the butt," Greg remarked.

Then seeing Suzette and Annaliese arriving at the hospital for their shift, he motioned for them to come over and explained what was going on.

The two of them helped Anderson inside, and Greg couldn't help but notice the looks French and Bragg gave him.

"Care to tell me what that's all about?"

"What?" French replied.

"You know what, those looks the two of you were giving Anderson just now."

"Those two are going to get a very good look at Anderson's literal rear area," French told him.

"You mean?" Greg couldn't help it, but a grin played at the corners of his mouth.

"Yeah, he got shot right in the ass," Bragg said.

"Boyle was trying to shoot down a bunch of bananas and he got them down, but then the bullet came down and hit Anderson squarely in the..." French started to explain.

"Rear area," Bragg could barely finish the sentence he was laughing so hard.

Greg rolled his eyes upward.

"Sometimes," he thought. "These clowns were more trouble than the Japanese."

Then he added. "I guess we had better go in and see how he's getting along."

Greg wasn't liking the idea that he was, for the time being, going to be short three pilots now that TJ was in the hospital, Gutterman was going to stay locked up, at least until he was sure TJ was going to make it, and now it was doubtful that Anderson would be able to sit down, for long periods of time, for a few days.

"If anything else goes wrong I'm going to scream," he said to himself.

Suzette was waiting for them at the nurse's station, just inside the door.

"Dr. Pendleton just got the bullet out a few minutes ago, but he'd like to keep him for about an hour. We had to give him a mild sedative and the doctor wants that to wear off first before he discharges him. You can go in and see him if you want to."

"Oh, I definitely want to see him," Greg thought

"Okay French, you and Bragg can head on back and Anderson will ride back to camp with me."

"Okay Pappy," French agreed.

Suzette showed Greg to the treatment room where Anderson was and when Greg entered Anderson looked up at him with pain filled eyes.

"Do you realize that what you did was not the most brilliant move ever?" Greg asked, not giving Anderson a chance to say anything first.

"Come on Pappy, would you lay off with the lecturing for once, my ass hurts," Anderson whined.

"In case it hasn't occurred to you, Anderson, the entire squadron is a pain in my ass at one time or another. So, now you know how I feel," Greg countered. "And as soon as Dr. Pendleton gives the okay to release you I'm confining you and Boyle to your tents for the evening."

"Why?" Anderson moaned.

"Because he knew better than to fire his weapon so close to camp when he was not engaged in combat with enemy forces or participating in an official training situation and you knew better than to be in the direct line of fire. As a result of your stupid actions, I'm short three pilots and I've had almost all I can handle for one day. That's why!"

Robert Anderson didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say, and if he had it probably wouldn't have done any good in the first place. When Greg got this mad there was no reasoning with him.


	7. Chapter 7

The ride back to camp was fairly quiet. Anderson was doing his best not to complain about how uncomfortable it was riding over the bumpy, uneven ground with an extremely sore behind because he knew that Greg, in this case, wasn't going to be to generous with sympathy and after having had time to think about it, Anderson had to agree with him, finally though he spoke up, "Pappy?"

"What Anderson?" Greg said sharply.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for causing you any more trouble."

"Well, you and Boyle should have thought about that earlier and French and Bragg should have put a stop to it. I left them in charge while I was gone. I've got a lot to deal with right now. TJ's not out of the woods yet, you're not going to be able to fly for five days, and Gutterman's on lock down until I see what happens with TJ. So that leaves me short three pilots, and I just hope nothing else happens until you get medical clearance to fly."

"You could temporarily release Gutterman under the circumstances, couldn't you?" Anderson suggested.

Greg looked at him coldly.

"I could, but I'm not going to and you want to know why?" Greg stopped the jeep before continuing. "I'm not going to because if it wasn't for him and his aggressive behavior TJ wouldn't have been shot down and he wouldn't have spent four days and nights alone on a raft shot and at the mercy of the elements. I don't even want to consider what he was thinking, watching Gutterman just leave him like he did. I do know one thing though, he was probably scared to death and I don't blame him. I spent about an hour with him in the hospital, just sitting there watching him clinging to life, and I can't think of any time in my life when I felt as helpless, as powerless as I did then." Greg decided not to say anything about TJ briefly regaining consciousness. "So there's no way in hell I'm letting Gutterman out until TJ is back with us in the air, and if he dies I'm going to see to it that Gutterman is brought up on charges and as many as I can make stick."

Anderson didn't know what to say.

"Sorry I mentioned it," he said quietly.

Greg just looked at him for a few minutes, then shook his head, started the jeep, and headed back to camp.

A week later, Greg was bathing Emily, who thoroughly enjoying the experience, was splashing happily in the same tub that was her "wading pool" when Casey walked up with his hands in his pockets looking very concerned about something.

"You okay Casey?" Greg asked.

"No," Casey replied. "As a matter of fact, after you hear what I have to say I don't think me, French, Boyle, or Anderson, are going to be okay."

Greg picked up a cup and poured water over Emily, rinsing the soap out of her dark hair. A warm breeze drifted through the leaves of the palm trees near the camp. He had a feeling that this peaceful afternoon was about to be disrupted.

"What did you all do?" He asked, hoping it did not involve anyone getting shot again as he lifted Emily, wet and scented with that delicious smell just washed babies have, from the tub and laid her on a towel to dry her off. She made sweet little baby sounds enjoying the warm breeze blowing on her, as she lay naked as a cherub, while Greg applied baby lotion to her arms, legs, back, and tummy and put baby powder on her bottom, before putting her diaper on.

"The four of us got bored and decided to fly down The Slot a little ways. We knew it was too early for the afternoon patrol, but we decided to fly around for awhile since we had nothing better to do," Casey said.

Greg could think of a few things they could have been doing, namely cleaning out the Sheep Pen, which was starting to resemble a pig sty and smell like it, too, but he let Casey continue rather than say anything about that.

"Go on," he said.

"Well, we ran into some trouble over Rendova."

"Just what do you mean by trouble and why in the hell were you all clear down there?" Greg asked not liking where this was going."

"Um...Well...It's like this, Pappy."

Casey was so nervous he was about to wet his pants.

"Out with it, Casey," Greg knew something was definitely wrong.

"No one got hurt or anything, but we got attacked by about 14 Zeros. I got four, Boyle got four, Anderson got four, and French got two, but our planes really sustained a lot of damage."

Greg wrapped Emily in a dry towel and looked at Casey, and Casey didn't like the look he was giving him.

"You're telling me that I am now short four more planes?

"For a few days, Hutch thinks he can get 'em in the air by the weekend."

"HE THINKS HE CAN! I'M ALREADY SHORT TWO PILOTS AND NOW DOWN TO HALF MY PLANES. WHAT ARE YOU ALL TRYING TO DO? COLONEL LARD ISN'T GOING TO HAVE TO HAVE AN EXCUSE TO BREAK US UP AS A SQUADRON BECAUSE YOU MEATHEADS WILL HAVE ALREADY DONE IT FOR HIM BY SLOWLY DESTROYING THE PLANES. I'VE GOT MORE TROUBLE TO DEAL WITH NOW THAN I CAN HANDLE AND THE FOUR OF YOU HAVE JUST GONE AND ADDED MORE ON TOP OF IT!"

Greg was so mad if he hadn't been holding Emily he would have hit Casey or the table, although more than likely both. Despite Greg's shouting however, Emily was sound asleep against his shoulder.

"Bragg," he called seeing Jerry heading across the camp.

"Yeah Pappy, say did you know we're gonna be short four planes...?"

Then seeing Casey standing there and the look on Greg's face he realized that he probably did.

"I'm going to get Emily dressed and then take her with me to visit TJ in the hospital. While I'm gone I want you to supervise Casey, French, Anderson, and Boyle while they clean out the pig sty...I mean the Sheep Pen. They won't be flying the evening patrol and that will give them something to do."

"Pappy!"

Casey didn't finish the sentence as Greg glared at him with a look that told him whatever else he had to say had better remain unsaid if he knew what was good for him.

After getting Emily dressed, Greg drove by the airstrip on the way over to the hospital. Hutch was working on Casey's plane and Greg just about turned the jeep around and went back to beat the crap out of the four of them.

"If Hutch is able to get those four planes in the air by the weekend it will be a miracle," he thought.

It also was a miracle they'd made it back safely if the condition of the planes was any indication. However, Greg didn't have time to sit looking at the planes and getting madder than he already was. He hadn't been to visit TJ in a few days, although Suzette had been keeping him updated on how his recovery was progressing, Greg wanted to go see him personally and he thought seeing Emily might do him some good as well.

When Greg walked into TJ's room carrying Emily he was surprised to find him sitting up in bed reading the card Greg had brought a few days earlier.

"At least someone in the squadron listens to me," Greg commented sitting down in the chair next to his bed.

Emily reached out towards TJ and he carefully leaned over taking her from Greg and once she was settled against him, she lay quietly with her head resting against his shoulder, sucking her thumb.

"What do you mean, Pappy," TJ asked.

"TJ, the last time I was here you were practically at death's door and the last thing I said to you before was I left was that I wanted you to get back to us and that was an order."

"I don't remember that," TJ replied.

"No, I doubt that you would, although you did regain consciousness for just a moment to thank me."

TJ was confused.

"Thank you...for what?"

"For blowing that Zero that shot you down into a million pieces. I told you that I'd blown the hell out of him and you squeezed my hand, thanked me, and then you lost consciousness again."

"I don't remember that either," TJ said.

"What do you remember?" Greg asked. But, as soon as he done so he wondered if that had been a smart thing to do.

"I remember we were almost back to Vella La Cava and four Zeros attacked us. Two of them latched onto me and Bragg got one of them and then...and then."

Greg reached over and placed his hand gently on TJ's shoulder.

"TJ, you don't have to do this," he said.

"No, Pappy, it's okay. I felt something slam into my plane and I knew that I'd been hit. I tried to pull up, but couldn't. I tried to call for one of you to help, but the radio wasn't working, and then after a few moments I knew that I had to bail out or I was going to die, but I just couldn't get my body to move and finally I just forced myself to open the canopy and jump."

TJ was silent for a few moments as he got his thoughts and nerves under control. Greg let him take his time knowing that if TJ decided he couldn't go on talking about it he would say something, but at the same time TJ needed to get this out of his system as his healing from the psychological damage that getting shot down had caused was just as important as his healing from the physical damage.

"I floated down to the water and was able to grab onto one of the wings," he continued. "I saw one of the planes flying overhead for awhile and then it left."

"Gutterman," Greg thought. "That worthless horse's ass."

"Then I thought one of the guys was returning, but it was one of the Zeros and they must have realized I was a downed American pilot because they started shooting at me. I felt two of the bullets slam into me and I knew that I wasn't going to be able to hold on to the wing much longer in the shape I was in. Somehow, I managed to get to my inflatable raft out, pull the inflation cord, and get in. I knew I was losing blood, but didn't know how much.

I could feel myself drifting in and out of consciousness and I tried to force myself to stay awake, since I was afraid that if I shut my eyes that would be it as far as TJ Wiley was concerned. I thought about my family, you and the other Black Sheep, and Emily. Then I finally just had to close my eyes and give in to the blackness, since the pain was so bad. After that, I don't remember anything until I woke up here early this morning."

TJ was just about wiped out physically and emotionally after that. Greg lifted Emily off of him and patted his shoulder encouragingly

"It's okay TJ; you just need to get some rest now. I'll talk to Dr. Pendleton before I leave and let him know I was here and how you were."

TJ nodded sleepily.

"Pappy," he said.

"Yes TJ."

He looked at the card he had placed back on the nightstand when Greg and Emily had come in.

"Tell everyone thanks. That was the first thing I saw when I woke up and I wished I was back with them."

"I will and they miss you as much as you miss them," Greg replied.

While Greg and Emily were visiting TJ, Bragg was sitting in the Sheep Pen with his feet propped up on one of the tables that had been pushed against a wall, drinking a beer. Casey, French, Anderson, and Boyle were in the process of cleaning the floor of the Sheep Pen.

"You should be helping us," French groused. "You're in here every night the same as us."

Bragg just leaned back in his chair and looked at them over the two month old newspaper he was reading.

"But, I didn't wreck half of our planes like you guys," he said matter of matter-of-factly. "And besides, Pappy didn't say anything about me helping, just supervising, so shut up and get this place clean because I'm supposed to spend the evening with Clarissa tonight and if I have to explain to her why I won't be able to go walking on the beach with her you're all going to have more problems than you do now."

The four of them worked without further comment although Bragg could tell they all wanted to give him a hard time. They were working on cleaning behind the bar when Anderson and Boyle moved a storage cabinet and a horrendous smell filled the air.

"What the hell," Bragg chocked."What did you all do? Eat some fermented fish and the digestive results are just becoming obvious?"

Anderson and Boyle could hardly talk, but indicated the decaying carcass that was in such a state of decomposition that it was no longer identifiable. Bragg got up and looked at whatever it was nearly losing his lunch in the process.

"Get a shovel and get that thing out of here," he choked.

"Where do you want us to take it?" French, trying not to throw up, said from the far end of the bar where he and Casey had been cleaning out the cabinets and scrubbing shelves.

Bragg, nearly sick to his stomach, both from the sight and smell of whatever the thing had been in its living state, said the first thing that he could think of.

"Get a shovel and take it several feet into the jungle and then cover it good with dirt."

Boyle grabbed a shovel and holding his breath he scooped up the maggot and worm infested, stinking carcass and trying not to breath too much carried it several feet into the jungle, dumped it on the ground, and then buried it under several large shovelfuls of dirt.

Then, just to be safe, he found several large rocks and placed those over it as well. Although he doubted if anything would dig it up and eat it. Then he left, holding his breath until he was almost back to camp. He arrived back at the Sheep Pen to find that French, Anderson, and Casey had gotten the spot where the animal, whatever it was, had died scrubbed clean even though it had taken an entire jug of bleach to get the noxious smell out of the Sheep Pen.

When Greg and Emily returned from visiting TJ he stopped by the Sheep Pen half expecting to find Bragg at the end of his rope and French, Anderson, Casey, and Boyle doing a half assed job of cleaning. To his surprise, however, he found them seated around a table playing cards and the Sheep Pen looking and smelling cleaner that it had in a long time. Bragg looked up and grinned. Greg smiled and gave him two thumbs up before he shut the door and carried Emily back to his tent for her afternoon nap.

"They did a great job," he said to himself. "But, did they have to use so much bleach?"

It was a few days later and Greg was sitting at his desk doing paperwork while Emily and Meatball napped. Hearing a knock on the door he looked up to see Anderson and Casey standing in the doorway.

"What?" he asked hoping he wasn't going to have another problem to deal with.

"There's a guy out here that says he's one of the Black Sheep, but you haven't said anything about us getting a new pilot," Casey remarked doing his best to keep a straight face.

"I never requested a new pilot. What are you two talking about?" Greg asked laying aside the reports he had been working on.

"Maybe you ought to talk to him, Pappy, should we send him in?" Anderson remarked also trying not to laugh.

"Yeah and if I have to I'll contact General Moore and see what he knows about it as well," Greg replied.

"Major Greg Boyington, 1st Lt Thomas Joseph Wiley reporting for duty, Sir," TJ stood by Greg's desk saluting.

Greg was too stunned to speak for a few moments not quite believing his eyes.

"At ease TJ," he said jumping up and giving him a hug."What are you doing here? Dr. Pendleton told me it would be the first of the week before you were discharged."

TJ gave Greg a mischievous smile.

"Pappy, I sort of talked him into discharging me early on a little condition."

"What would that be?" Greg asked.

"That you'd give him two bottles of that expensive scotch you've got hidden in your footlocker."

"How did he know about that? I've never told anyone about that," Greg was flabbergasted. Then he added. "That's my over $200 a bottle scotch and I got 12 bottles at $50 each on a condition...well I'm not at liberty to say what the condition was, but I sure as hell got a bargain on scotch out of it."

"Apparently, you let it slip when you were at the Officers' Club on Espritos Marcos for that training seminar two months ago and you'd had a few too many drinks at dinner one night," TJ explained.

"Damn," Greg thought. "Well, it's a small sacrifice if it's going to get you back to us, but I'm limiting your flying time to morning patrols only until the first of the week, or until I talk to Dr. Pendleton and get his okay to let you resume full and active duty. Have I made myself clear?"

"Whatever you say, Pappy, I'm just glad to be back," TJ said.

"TJ, a few weeks ago I never thought I'd be saying this to you, but I'm glad to have you back, as well. Now you'd better go rest up because knowing you guys you'll be up all night celebrating," Greg said indicating for Anderson and Casey to help him back to his tent.

 _I couldn't believe that Casey and Anderson had cooked that little act up to keep TJ's return a surprise, I also couldn't believe that I had let it slip to Dr. Pendleton about my best scotch, but then I guess that over indulging in too much liquor does that. However, I unfortunately knew that the chances were more than good that at some point in the future I would, while in the same inebriated condition, pull the exact same stunt, and agree to God only knows what while too drunk to even comprehend what I was agreeing to._

That evening at supper, TJ looked around for Gutterman.

"Anyone know where Jim is?" he asked.

The rest of the Black Sheep moved their food around on their plates or looked around the room not sure what to say.

"Come on guys, what's going on?" TJ said becoming worried.

"Ask Pappy when he comes in," French replied.

A few minutes later Greg sat down next to TJ.

"Feeling okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," TJ replied. "But I'd like to know where Gutterman is?"

Greg sighed.

"I've had him locked up since you were shot down," he explained. "You remember how he was behaving before the mission and when he found out you were leading the second team?"

TJ nodded.

"I gave him specific instructions to stay with you until Air Sea Rescue arrived and it wasn't 20 minutes after we landed that he came flying back in. He smarted off to me and basically acted like he didn't care what happened to you."

TJ was silent for a few minutes.

"So that was who I saw flying away," he said softly.

By this time the others had gathered around him offering their support.

"Yes, TJ, it was," Greg replied. "I told him I wouldn't consider releasing him until I knew for certain you were going to be okay."

"Pappy, I know that if Jim had stayed like he was supposed to I might not have gotten used as target practice by the pilots of those two Zeros and I probably would have been back with you guys a lot sooner, but if you would, well, I'd like for you to release Gutterman and let me talk with him?"

"Is that what you want, TJ, because I can also bring him up on charges."

"He's like a brother to me, the same as any of these other guys. I couldn't do that to them anymore than I could my own biological brother, and I can't do it to Jim, either," TJ said firmly.

Greg tossed Casey the keys to the shed.

"When you and TJ are finished eating the two of you can let Gutterman out," he said. "And tell him I want to see him myself first thing in the morning."

It was a quiet, tropical evening and everyone, but Greg was in the Sheep Pen celebrating TJ's return. Greg was in his tent, he had just finished a letter to TJ's family informing them that he was out of the hospital and doing well. Now, he was finishing the letter that he was enclosing with the assessment of the planes that he was finally ready to send to Washington, DC, when the mail plane came in tomorrow morning, and then he was going join them. Meatball was lying on the floor by Greg's desk patiently waiting for Greg to finish as the sounds of the Pied Pipers singing Mairzy Doats drifted from the Sheep Pen. Greg signed his name to the letter he was sending with the assessment packet. He had used some rather strong language in the letter and he hoped that would get the attention of those pencil pushing bureaucrats and then maybe they'd realize that he wasn't complaining over nothing, but was seriously in need of parts even more so than he'd been several months ago when they had promised that he would receive them. He had just sealed the envelope when suddenly Meatball jumped up and facing the door began barking, the hair on the back of his neck standing straight up.

"Quiet Meatball," Greg replied, but the dog kept right on barking. "Meatball!" he said a little more sharply. "I mean it, be quiet!"

Greg got up and went to the door looking out, all was quiet; the only sounds were coming from the Sheep Pen.

"See Meatball, everything's fine," Greg said trying to reassure him.

Meatball stopped barking, but emitted a low growl from deep in his throat.

Greg stepped outside with Meatball following him. The dog sat quietly on the ground, although a low growl still arose from him every once in awhile.

"What's gotten into you?" Greg thought looking down at the dog.

He looked towards the ocean; nothing appeared out of the ordinary. There was a new moon and the sky was a dark indigo blue saturated with several hundred million stars. Just then Greg looked towards the horizon where a brilliant star like object hung just above it at the exact spot where the ocean and the sky touched, as if lovers holding hands. As Greg watched the light seemed to move upward.

"What," Greg thought. "Is that?"

Meatball resumed his frenzied barking and wondering what was going on to cause Meatball to be so agitated the rest of the Black Sheep ran out of the Sheep Pen and came over to stand next to Greg, who was watching the light climb steadily in the sky. As it did so, it appeared to be getting brighter.

"That's not a plane of some sort...Is it?" TJ, who was holding Emily, asked.

Greg shook his head.

"I don't think so," he replied.

"I've never seen a plane do that!" Gutterman exclaimed as the light made a flute like whistling sound and separated into balls of colored light connected around the central white light.

Purple, blue, red, orange, green, yellow, aqua, pink, and a few strange pearlescent and sparkling colors none of them had ever seen before.

The light appeared to dance across the sky as the Black Sheep watched too stunned to say anything. Greg noticed a few of them were shaking and he happened to be one of them. In fact, he had to sit down next to Meatball who was now whimpering. Greg reached over and patted his head trying to calm both the dog and himself. He glanced over at TJ and Emily, she must have picked up on everyone's fear because she had her head against his shoulder and he was patting her back and whispering to her as if trying to calm her down too. Then suddenly, the lights ceased their whirling and spinning and seemed to fade out until only the bright white light was left, then it too slowly began growing smaller as it descended in the night sky until, as before, it looked like a brilliant star on the horizon. Then it faded until it was gone as well. The Black Sheep were too stunned to do anything for several minutes and then finally Boyle asked.

"What the hell was that we just saw?"

No one had an answer for him, but they were all silently asking the same question themselves. None of them felt like going back to the Sheep Pen after the events of the last few minutes and so French walked back and put things away before locking up. Then he came back and stood around talking with Greg and the others, who kept casting furtive glances towards the ocean, although everything looked normal.

Anderson, French, Bragg, and Gutterman were especially uneasy; talking in hushed voices about the "cloud" they had encountered while on patrol several weeks earlier and speculated among themselves whether there was a connection between the two events. Slowly, the Black Sheep began making their way back to their tents although none of them slept very well that night.

 _I had no idea what it was we saw that evening and even though we had stood outside my tent, for several hours afterward, trying to figure out what we had seen. No one else could come up with an explanation either. I thought about mentioning it to Colonel Lard or General Moore, but knowing my habit of overdoing it with liquor they would have just assumed that I had been with the others in the Sheep Pen and told me that what I had seen had been nothing more than an alcohol induced image along the lines of proverbial pink elephants. However, I knew that what we had seen could not be explained as being of human origin and as I stood in the doorway of my tent before going to bed, my gaze drifted to the horizon where the light had first appeared and a wave of cold fear washed over me._


	8. Chapter 8

Two weeks later, no one had given a second thought to what they had seen that night as the Black Sheep were kept busy with the morning and evening patrols. Greg had a couple of run-ins with Harachi, although neither of them amounted to anything more than the two of them exchanging insults or promising to send the other one swimming before they got tired of insulting each other and went their separate ways after promising to see, once and for all, who would shoot the other one down another day.

TJ, however, had another string of bad luck when one morning while on patrol over Munda he accidentally shot Greg's plane not once, but twice in the span of an hour, causing moderate damage to the underside of the plane the first time and minor damage to one of the wings and the canopy the second. Although, he had expected to really get it from Greg once they landed. Greg had simply grounded him for 48 hours, which was lucky since Hutch discovered a problem with the firing mechanism on TJ's plane that not only had been the reason for him accidentally shooting Greg's plane, but also could have caused it to explode in midair.

Boyle and Anderson, however had bigger problems to worry about when General Alderton caught them with his daughter Angelette and her cousin, Deidre, who was visiting from New York, engaged in some very intimate activities in the living room of the General's private residence when he arrived home early from a dinner meeting with General Moore. Greg really had to resort to some creative bull slinging to get them out of that one and when it was all said and done both of them wished that they had taken their chances with a military court, since Greg not only chewed them out in his tent for over two hours and then told them that if he found out they'd done anything like that again to forget about him coming to their rescue because he'd leave them to face whatever consequences that General Alderton meted out.

Boyle and Anderson didn't doubt for a minute that he was serious and promised that they wouldn't think of doing anything like that again and Greg was positive they meant it since when he was done with them; they were both so scared they practically crawled out of his tent.

Things eventually calmed down, however due to everyone being confined to camp because of the weather. Rain poured down on the island for four days and as a result almost everyone was staying in the their tents trying to keep as dry as possible, although a few who didn't seem to mind getting drenched had run over to the Sheep Pen for a change of scenery.

"Has anyone seen Pappy?" Casey asked running into the Sheep Pen.

"He's not here, so he's probably in his tent since it's too wet to go anywhere else, why?" French asked.

"He missed mail call this morning, I've got some letters for him and one of them looks important," Casey replied.

"Well, when you see him tell him that Bragg, Anderson, Gutterman, TJ, and I are going to be over here playing cards most of the afternoon so if he feels like he wants to get out in the rain he's welcome to come over and join us."

By the time Casey made it to Greg's tent he looked as if he'd taken a swim with his clothes on, since they were so wet they were clinging to him like a second skin.

"Are you in here, Pappy?" Casey asked sticking his head in the door.

Greg looked up from trying to rearrange the various buckets that he had placed around the tent to catch the water dripping through the roof.

"I'm certainly not out in that downpour," he replied. "Emily, Meatball, and I are trying to stay dry, but if this keeps up it will be a losing battle. I was awakened at 0300 by water dripping in my ear and have been up since then, for most of the night, playing musical buckets with these leaks."

Emily, who was lying on a folded blanket that Greg had placed in one of the few dry places on the floor, looked over at Casey blowing a kiss, which he caught before sending one back to her. Meatball was curled up under Greg's desk chewing on a stick and probably wishing the rain would stop so he could be outside.

"What brings you over here in this mess?" Greg asked.

"You missed mail call this morning, there were several letters for you, and one of them looks important, so I thought I'd bring them over; also French wanted you to know that most of the guys are going to be over in the Sheep Pen playing cards all afternoon and if you were interested in getting out in this mess you're welcome to join them."

Greg took the letters from Casey and told him he'd probably pass on the card game since he really didn't see the need to run across camp and get soaking wet when the way things were looking, he could stay right in his tent and do that just as well. Then he started looking through the mail.

"No, I don't want add to my life insurance,... Yeah right, I'm in the mood to purchase snow tires...Thank you, Mr. Penney, I'll be certain to attend the Bridal Showcase Sale ...Really, well if I'm off this island in the spring I'll be certain to visit my local nursery for landscaping ideas... This is ridiculous," Greg muttered. Then he came to the last piece of mail and he stared at it for several minutes.

"What is it, Pappy?" Casey asked in a slightly worried voice.

"I don't know, but the address is for the Motherhouse of Sister Mary Elizabeth's order," Greg replied.

Casey picked up Emily and held her while Greg opened the envelope and read it, not once, but twice before looking at Casey and Emily.

"What?" Casey asked.

"They've approved TJ's brother and sister-in-law to adopt Emily. They'll sign the papers next week and then if I can arrange it the Mother Superior would like for TJ to accompany Sister Mary Elizabeth and Emily to the States when they officially become her parents."

Casey didn't know what to say, at first.

"Let's not tell TJ," he said finally.

Greg looked at Casey as if he hadn't understood a word he had just said.

"What do you mean, let's not tell TJ? Of course, we have to tell TJ. I thought this was what everyone wanted?"

Greg couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Pappy, listen, we can't just tell TJ, let's do this right and have a celebration in the Sheep Pen and you can make a big announcement to everyone," Casey told him.

"And we keep it from TJ so it's a surprise. That's a great idea," Greg said.

"We could also invite Suzette and the other nurses since they've helped us out with Emily quite a bit," Casey continued.

Greg was beginning to form some ideas of his own in his head.

"What do you think about this?" he asked. "We have a celebratory dinner and at some point, probably after dessert, you slip out with Emily and then when I make the announcement you can come out and give Emily to her new Uncle TJ."

"Well, I guess I could, but why me? You're our commanding officer?" Casey asked thinking it made more sense for Greg to give Emily to TJ after he made the announcement about the adoption being finalized.

"You and TJ were the ones who found her, so it makes sense that you should have the honor of giving her to him," Greg explained.

Casey liked that idea and for the next hour they sat in Greg's tent discussing how they would go about throwing the celebration and more importantly keeping it a surprise from TJ.

"Casey, when you leave can you get me a weather report from Espritos Marcos and see when this deluge is supposed to end?" Greg asked.

"I already did before I came over here and the rain is supposed to end by 1400 and then be sunny, hot, and extremely humid the next few days."

"What else is new," Greg thought. "When this war is over with, I swear I'm going to go someplace where it never gets hot and stay for a long, long time."

"Mother Nature must be one of those women who likes to change her mind," Greg thought as he stood in the doorway of his tent holding Emily and looking out.

The weather report Casey had gotten before he had come over a few hours ago had said the rain was supposed to end by 1400, however 15 minutes after Casey had left the rain, which had been a downpour that would have made Noah nervous for most of the night and into that morning, had slowed to a gentle shower, before finally tapering off to nothing more than sprinkles.

As the rain began to let up everyone began to wander outside. Greg picked up Emily's bottle and went outside with her to join the others. He was standing beside French and TJ's planes talking with Casey, Gutterman, and Anderson when Emily looked up into the trees and began getting excited, making happy little noises, and pointing at something.

"What's got you so wound up?" Greg asked.

Then he and the others looked towards the ocean, spreading out over the water was a bright double rainbow. The colors were so vibrant that they were clearly distinguishable from one another, except where they blended into one another at the edges forming a perfect spectrum of color. Then, as they stood watching, a flock of tropical birds flew across the camp from one grove of palm trees to the other, their colors as bright and vivid as those of the rainbow.

Exclamations of "Look at that," and "Can you believe it," came from the group.

Emily was making sure they were watching, looking at them and pointing out everything she was seeing while making excited baby noises.

They stood watching as the birds flew back and forth between the two groves of palm trees with the rainbows creating a background for the tropical scene, until the rain moved off and the sky was once more a tropical blue.

Greg and Emily walked back to the Sheep Pen with Casey to look over some paperwork that Casey had some questions about. French, Anderson, and Bragg got the baseball and gloves out of the storage bin and started playing catch. TJ got the copy of My World and Welcome To It by James Thurber that his sister-in-law, Janie, had sent him a few months ago and went to sit on one of the fallen trees near his tent and read.

Gutterman didn't have anything else to do so he went to help Hutch work on his plane, which had started leaking oil during the morning patrol.

The sound of an incoming plane made everyone stop what they were doing and look towards the airstrip.

"How much do you want to bet that's Colonel Lard?" Anderson asked.

"Great, just what we need, okay guys think...What have we done to warrant a visit from the esteemed Colonel?" French asked with more than a touch of sarcasm in his voice.

No one could think of anything they had done that would call for Colonel Lard to grace them with his presence.

By now everyone, with the exception of Greg, Casey, and Emily who were still in the Sheep Pen, was standing in a group near the airstrip, wondering if it actually was Colonel Lard, and if so, why was he here.

"I think it might be a good idea to let Pappy know what's going on," TJ suggested.

Anderson ran towards the Sheep Pen to tell him that he and Casey might want to get outside with the rest of them.

By the time Anderson, Casey, Greg, and Emily joined them, the plane had landed and luckily it was not Colonel Lard, but a cargo plane.

"I wasn't expecting any supplies for a few days," Greg remarked.

The pilot of the cargo plane looked at his clipboard.

"This shipment is compliments of the USS Detroit," he replied.

Greg was perplexed.

"What could they be sending us?" he wondered.

"Where do you want them?" the pilot asked interrupting Greg's thoughts.

"Want what?" Greg asked.

"The 50 assorted cuts of steak and 20 cases of assorted liquor, apparently the crew of the USS Detroit promised them to you a little over a month ago, " the pilot answered.

Greg had completely forgotten about that, although the rest of the Black Sheep clearly remembered that their part of the deal in that little exchange had been to physically keep their hands and any other body parts, for that matter, off of the newly arrived nurses for one week. Of course, it hadn't taken them long, once the week was up, for them to introduce themselves and start getting to know them in every way possible. It was no surprise that that had resulted more than a little friction between the Black Sheep and the crew of the USS Detroit and they had seriously doubted that they would receive the promised steaks and liquor.

"What do you want us to do with them now?" French asked once everything was unloaded and the plane had taken off.

Greg was wondering that himself, at least as far as the steaks were concerned.

"You all know what to do with the liquor," he told them.

"Yeah get drunk, go find the nurses, and have some fun with them," Anderson, Boyle, and French replied enthusiastically.

Greg gave them an exasperated look.

"Not at 10 in the morning you morons," he replied slapping Anderson on the head.

"Take it to the Sheep Pen and put it with the rest of our supply."

"Okay," Anderson said dejectedly. "But, I still think it would be more fun for us to get drunk and go find the nurses."

Several of the other Black Sheep agreed with him and Greg just shook his head.

"It's times like this I wonder about you all," he said to himself.

Of course, he had to admit that liquor and women were definitely in the top 10 of things they enjoyed, along with fighting, gambling, and aggravating Colonel Lard, but even Greg knew that there was a time and a place for everything and now was not the time or the place to get drunk and make out with the nurses.

Then after giving it some thought about what to do with the steaks he replied.

"I don't know if it works, but hook the spare generator up to that freezer we got as part of that bet we won a few months ago. If it works and I don't see why it shouldn't, since it's supposedly a brand new freezer, all the steaks should fit in there. I think they'll be okay until the temperature gets cold enough, since they're frozen solid."

Anderson, French, and TJ went to work on that little detail, while Gutterman and Bragg began moving the cases of liquor into the Sheep Pen, even though Anderson's idea sounded much better to them.

Greg motioned for Casey to join him over by his plane.

"I just had a great idea," Greg said.

"Does it involve liquor and nurses?" Casey asked grinning, hopeful that Greg had changed his mind.

"Now don't you start," Greg replied. "I have an idea about this dinner we're going to have to celebrate TJ becoming Emily's uncle."

"What about it?" Casey asked.

"I just decided that we're going to have the steaks with salad, baked potatoes, and the works." Greg replied nodding towards the boxes that at that moment were being placed in the freezer.

Despite Greg and Casey's best efforts, TJ almost found out what was going on. Everyone was in the Sheep Pen enjoying the coconut almond brownies, that Casey and French had made that afternoon, and unwinding after a particularly harrowing day in which they had been ambushed by at least 40 Zeros while on the morning patrol near New Georgia. Although everyone had made it back uninjured, several of the planes had sustained significant damage, and what really had Greg concerned was the fact that Hutch had told him that a couple of the planes might be beyond fixing, unless they were able to get the parts that Washington had promised them.

However, Greg wasn't going to worry about that right now because there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it at that moment.

Greg was sitting next to Gutterman with Emily on his lap. TJ was sitting on the other side of him with French, Anderson, and Bragg across from them. Boyle had gotten up to fix some baby cereal for Emily. He came back and sat the bowl in front of Greg before he went and sat down at the end of the table. The conversation centered around the morning's ambush and the fact that if they didn't get those parts Washington had promised to send them soon, there was a very real chance they wouldn't have enough planes to keep them together as a squadron. Despite Greg's assurances that wouldn't happen, the way things were looking, a few of the Black Sheep wondered if that wasn't the reason why they still hadn't gotten the parts from Washington.

Although he didn't want to admit it Greg was beginning to wonder the same thing, since he hadn't heard anything in response to the packet that he had sent them several weeks ago containing the plane assessments. He had just finished feeding Emily her last bite of cereal when a very unpleasant smell filled the air and several of them Gutterman, especially, made some comments as to who had hygiene issues that needed to addressed and as soon as possible.

Greg looked at Emily, sniffed, and immediately realized that her diaper needed changing.

"I think the source of our odor problem is Emily's diaper," Greg remarked "And since you were so vocal about the cause of the smell, Jim, you can change her."

Jim Gutterman had done many things that he considered to be above and beyond the call of duty since he had enlisted, however he drew the line at changing messy diapers.

"TJ can do it since he's officially going to be her un...ummowww!"

At that point, Bragg had just kicked him under the table.

"What was that for?"Jim yelled.

Keeping his voice as low as possible Bragg replied.

"You know what for; you almost ruined everyone's hard work by spoiling the surprise tomorrow night."

Jim was itching for a fight and he didn't care who he had to take on to scratch it.

"I ought to break every bone in your body right here and now," he growled.

Greg realized that things were getting out of hand and if he didn't do something quickly Jim's temper was liable to get him in trouble.

"Calm down Jim," Greg said placing a hand on his shoulder. Then leaning down he whispered. "I don't want to have to repeat that fight we had a few weeks ago."

Gutterman's response was to stand up, slinging the chair behind him.

"What's stopping you, Pappy, you chicken?"

Greg handed Emily to TJ, who went to go change her, and then faced Gutterman.

"No, Jim, I'm not chicken. You've had too much to drink," Greg told him.

Jim was already on his fourth glass of beer and had had at least four bottles of hard liquor in his tent prior to that.

"And as far as I'm concerned you're on thin ice and the ice is cracking. If I were you I'd back off slowly before you fall in." Greg added his voice making it perfectly clear he wanted this to end and end now.

Gutterman drew back his fist, but before he could take a swing at Greg French and Bragg grabbed him and sat him down.

"Make another move and the only place you'll be going is home in a body bag because I'll personally kill you myself," French said his voice hard and unemotional.

Gutterman didn't say anything, but gave Greg, French, and Bragg a hateful look and moved off to sit by himself at another table, while the rest of the Black Sheep went back to their conversations as if nothing had happened.

 _I really had to hand it to French and Bragg for stepping in to diffuse what could have escalated into a serious situation. Although, it was clearly obvious that I was going to have to sit Gutterman down and have a serious talk about controlling his explosive temper before he endangered himself or someone else. Luckily, as far as I knew, TJ hadn't picked up on Jim almost letting it out that he was now Emily's uncle or would soon be. If he had, I was certain that he would have said something to me and so, at least as far as I knew, our surprise was still safe._

The morning dawned clear with the sun rising as an angry red zero, bringing with it the promise that it was going to be another hot, sticky, tropical day. Greg had awakened early and was sitting outside his tent reading to Emily.

"Spot is hiding behind his house. Do you see Spot?" Greg read. "Emily, can you find the doggie?" he asked.

Emily pointed to Meatball, who was lying under a nearby palm tree.

"Yes, that's Meatball, but where's the doggie here?" he asked pointing to the page.

Emily again pointed at Meatball.

"Um umm," she said taking the book from him and dropping it on the ground.

"Okay, I guess that means we're done reading," he commented.

Just then Casey walked over, he and the others had gotten back from morning patrol and Greg wondered if something had happened by the look on his face.

"Casey, how were things this morning?" he asked.

"Boring," Casey replied. "We didn't see one single enemy plane or destroyer the entire time. We even decided to do a $20 pool, but that didn't help any."

"Why, so much money?" Greg asked, usually the pools were $5 or $10 at the most.

"Well, we decided that since TJ was excused from the patrol due his being at the hospital for a checkup with Dr. Pendleton we'd have a pool and give the money to TJ for Emily," Casey explained. "However, even though we didn't see anything we're each going to give $20 to him for her."

Greg handed Casey five $20 bills and told him not to say anything to the others about what he had done, then looking at his watch realized he hadn't had breakfast yet.

"Casey, you want to walk over to the Sheep Pen and have breakfast. Then we can finalize our plans for this afternoon while we eat?"

A few minutes later, Greg and Casey sat down at one of the tables with plates of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and coffee.

TJ was just leaving the Sheep Pen after finishing his breakfast and offered to take Emily with him, Anderson, and Boyle down to the beach.

"Breakfast is decent for once, this morning," Greg commented.

"Thank French and Bragg for that, they cooked this morning," Casey explained before taking a bite of pancakes.

"Then remind me to have them cook breakfast at least a couple times a week," Greg said.

Casey thought for a few moments, while he finished his pancakes, before replying.

"Do you know how well that would go over with them!" he exclaimed.

After thinking it over for a few moments, Greg agreed that it probably wouldn't make them too happy. Then clearing their dishes and getting more coffee they sat down to finalize their plans for the evening's activities.

"Suzette said that she and the girls would be over by about 1500 to start helping set up in the Sheep Pen. Gutterman's going to help me arrange the tables after lunch. TJ, Anderson, and Boyle have taken Emily to the beach for the afternoon. French and Bragg are going to start building the fire and cooking the steaks around 1600, and then I plan on us eating about by 1800. I told Penelope and Claire to bring out the cake and punch about 1900 or so and while we're having dessert I'll make the big announcement."

"TJ is going to be speechless," Casey commented.

Greg took a drink of coffee.

"I wouldn't exactly say that, but he is going to be surprised by all of this and remind me at 1730 to go tell Hutch to stop whatever he's working on so he has time to get cleaned up and join us."

Later that evening, the Sheep Pen had been transformed into the banquet room of a five star hotel, or as close to that as Suzette and the other nurses with the help of Greg, Gutterman, and Casey could manage. Suzette had found some dark blue table cloths and white and yellow cloth napkins along with white china dinner and dessert plates as well as some fancy cut glass goblets in a storage room at the hospital. While in another storage room, Kathlynn and Claire had found a punch bowl and cups to use when serving dessert.

The centerpieces had been made by Clarissa and Annaliese and were clear glass bowls filled with polished stones and tropical flowers. Those were placed over strips of yellow and white cloth, one color cut narrower than the other so that they could be layered as a table runner.

The rest of the Sheep Pen was decorated with palm fronds and candle holders that French and Gutterman had made by drilling holes in coconuts and draining out the milk. Greg had insisted on dress uniforms for the dinner, which some of them thought was going too far considering the heat, but since it was a special occasion they didn't complain too much.

French and Bragg however sealed their fates of being scheduled to do the cooking on a regular basis with their perfectly cooked steaks and potatoes. Annaliese and Kathlynn had fixed the salad and Clarissa and Allison had somehow gotten the ingredients to make yeast rolls.

After supper, Penelope and Claire brought out a huge coconut cake and with the help of the Black Sheep, and their very creative trading practices, they had been able to obtain all of the ingredients to make real butter cream icing for the cake, which they decorated with shredded coconut.

They also made a lime punch, using limes that Gutterman and Boyle had picked from some lime trees growing near the camp. Since, the evening was in honor of Emily's adoption by TJ's brother and sister in law, Greg didn't want anything to spoil it for TJ, so he insisted that it wouldn't contain any alcohol.

He even went one step further and, without revealing the reason for the dinner, made it perfectly clear to all the Black Sheep that anyone caught adding any would face dire consequences. After dessert, Casey took Emily to go get her changed into the sundress Penelope, Kathlynn, Annaliese, and Clarissa had made from some pastel floral print material Allison's aunt had sent her several months earlier.


	9. Chapter 9

Greg stood up and thanked everyone for their contributions to the evening and made a short speech about how proud he was to be in command of such a fine group of men.

"Now the main reason for my being up here is that I have an important announcement," Greg replied trying to remain serious despite the looks on some of their faces during the speech.

The room became quiet at that statement, although everyone, but TJ knew what the announcement was or so they thought.

"I want to tell you all that next week we will officially be adding a new member to the Black Sheep and at the same time one of the Black Sheep will be returning to the United States for a short time."

No one had been expecting that and everyone began talking, trying to figure out what Greg meant by that statement. Holding up his hands for silence Greg waited until everyone was once again quiet before he continued.

"As I was saying I want to welcome to the Black Sheep, Emily Grace Wiley."

At that moment Casey came out from behind a sheet that had been hung behind the bar, and handed Emily to TJ, who looked down at her and then at Greg not quite comprehending what was going on.

"TJ, Robert and Janie will sign the papers finalizing their adoption of Emily on Monday, but, as of tonight, we're officially considering you her uncle. I know that's a little out of order procedure-wise, but considering the circumstances those of us involved felt it was the best way to proceed.

"Pappy," Anderson said "We're the Black Sheep have we ever been known to follow procedure?"

"No, Anderson, we definitely aren't known for following procedure so I guess for us the way things worked out is normal procedure," Greg replied laughing.

"Anyway, TJ, as soon as I can get the confirmation paperwork from Colonel Lard and General Moore and travel arrangements made, you will be accompanying Sister Mary Elizabeth when she takes Emily to the States."

Greg then went and sat back down by TJ.

"You okay?" he asked.

TJ nodded.

"I just can't believe it. When did you find out?" he asked.

"A few days ago, I wanted to call you into my tent and tell you then, but Casey insisted we keep it a secret and have a celebratory dinner, so I could make a big announcement."

"Thanks Casey," TJ replied.

"Well, it didn't seem right for Pappy to just tell you in his tent, and since we couldn't get Emily a gift we had a pool the other day during the morning patrol, of course everything was quiet and we didn't see even one Zero or enemy destroyer, but we still put the money that would have gone into it together and this is for Emily from all of us."

Casey handed TJ an envelope containing the $240 and when he opened it he was speechless.

"I don't know what to say," he admitted. "Except thanks and I know if Janie and Robert were here they'd thank you all, as well."

"You're welcome, TJ, and I'm sure Janie will write and thank us once they and Emily get settled in together," Casey replied

Emily had had about as much excitement as she could handle for the evening and fell asleep in TJ's lap while everyone else came over to congratulate TJ and his family

Finally, things started winding down and slowly everyone began drifting back to their tents. Bragg and French followed Suzette and the other girls back to the nurse's quarters to make certain that they got there safely, before turning in themselves.

The celebratory mood of the previous evening did not last long, however. Greg stayed behind during the morning patrol, putting Gutterman in charge. He had sat down with him and had a man to man talk and one of the problems was that Jim felt as if he didn't have enough to do, so he stirred up trouble to release his excess energy.

Greg solved that problem quickly enough by putting him in charge of two of the morning patrols a week, plus the paperwork that went with it.

"Hopefully, that will keep him busier," Greg said to Hutch as the two of them were sitting outside the maintenance shed while Emily, who was sitting on Greg's lap, had a very animated conversation with Meatball about something. Just then Hutch looked up and saw the eight Corsairs flying in. He and Greg looked at each other trying figure out what they would be doing back early.

"Pappy, we hate to tell you this, but we're done for as a squadron," Gutterman said and the others nodded their heads in agreement.

"What's going on, Jim, just calm down and tell me what happened."

"Everything was fine until we got about 50 miles from Munda and then things started to go south. My plane's engine started acting up, Casey's fuel pressure dropped, and Boyle's did the same thing. I made the decision to head back and I was glad I did because we got within shooting distance of here and TJ's plane starts smoking something awful. I thought we were going to lose him and no matter what I told myself I'd stay with him this time."

Greg knew then that Gutterman's conscience had really been talking to him over his behavior when TJ had recently been shot down.

"And that," he thought. "Definitely was a good thing."

"Then," Jim continued. "Anderson, French, and Bragg all came over the radio telling me their planes are having various mechanical difficulties as well. We coasted in here on prayers and probably little else."

"You all go get a few hours rest and Hutch and I will see what's going on. Everyone meet out here at 1100 and hopefully we can tell some of you if the situation with your plane is as bad as you think or if it's fixable."

"Okay Pappy"

"Thanks"

"See you in a few hours."

TJ took Emily back to his tent with him as he and the others went to get some much needed sleep.

"What do you think, Hutch?" Greg asked.

Hutch looked over at each of the planes sitting off to the side of the airstrip.

"I don't know, Greg. I told you that had my doubts that I could do anymore to keep them flying, unless we get those parts, but I'll try my best."

Greg patted him on shoulder.

"That's all I ask," he replied.

 _I wished that I was going to have better news to tell the guys when they showed up at the airstrip at 1100. TJ's plane was in need of a whole new engine, carburetor, and a complete fuel line replacement and that was just the tip of the iceberg. As a matter of fact, in his case, a whole new plane was in order. It was a miracle that he'd made it back and the same could be said for the rest of the Black Sheep based on the multitude of things that Hutch and I found wrong with their planes. At that moment, I realized one thing and that was if we were going to stand any chance of staying together those parts that Washington had promised needed to get here and get here yesterday._

As he expected, the Black Sheep didn't take the news about the planes very well. In fact, Gutterman, French, and Bragg all wanted to meet with him in his tent to put in for transfer. Greg, however, refused telling them that until there was nothing more that could be done he wasn't giving up and if they were then they were cowards, not Black Sheep. As Greg had hoped that got the three of them to rethink the situation and after a few moments of thinking over what he had said they agreed to wait and see what was going to happen

After they had left, Greg began writing letters to whomever he could think of that might have some way of influencing the outcome of this situation. While he was doing that the others tried to be as constructive with their time as possible.

Greg's talk had really made an impression on Gutterman, French, and Bragg and the three of them went to see what they could do to help Hutch, who was working on the few planes that he could do anything with. TJ, Casey, and Anderson spread a blanket out on the ground and were busy making towers on it with some wood scraps that they had sanded, for Emily to knock down. Boyle and Meatball somehow found themselves in a game of fetch with a piece of driftwood.

"Anyone else hear that?" Boyle asked stopping mid-throw.

Meatball barked in acknowledgement.

"Okay besides Meatball?" he asked again.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and listened.

"Sounds like a plane," French replied wiping oil off his hands

"I hope it's not Colonel Lard," Gutterman replied looking up from trying to find the right size wrench that he needed.

"It wasn't him the last time, but how long can our luck hold out?" Bragg commented from where he was sitting on the wing of French's plane.

Just to be on the safe side Casey ran to alert Greg about the incoming plane. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, when it landed and it turned out to be another cargo plane.

The pilot got out, looked at his clipboard, and then his eyes scanned over the Black Sheep as if looking for someone in particular. If he thought it was strange that TJ was holding a baby girl, he didn't show it and perhaps, taking note of her Asian American features, he assumed that TJ was her father.

"Are any of you Major Greg Boyington?" he asked.

Just then Greg and Casey walked up and upon overhearing his question Greg replied.

"I am what's going on?"

"I've got a large shipment here for you and I'll need you to sign for it," the pilot explained.

"Really, what's the USS Detroit sending us this time?" Greg said

The pilot looked at Greg very confused.

"Um nothing, Major Boyington, Sir, actually, this is the first of four shipments that will be arriving today consisting of...airplane parts."

At those last two words Greg felt himself growing dizzy and lightheaded. He would have fallen if Gutterman and Boyle hadn't caught him and sat him down on a nearby rock.

"Did you say four shipments of airplane parts?" Jim asked not quite believing what the pilot had said, himself.

"That's correct um..."

"Gutterman, Sir, Captain James Gutterman, I'm Pa...I mean Major Boyington's executive officer. If it's not a problem, I'll sign for the shipments since Major Boyington is not feeling well at the moment."

"Very well, Captain Gutterman, if you'll sign here," he said indicating a line on the top form, then turning the page ...and here, then turning to another page...here...here...here...and initial here." Then he turned one more page. "And finally sign, date, and initial here and here. The remaining three shipments are scheduled at 1300, 1400, and 1500 hours. I do need to warn you that the next two shipments will be significantly larger than this one and the last one."

"Thanks," Jim replied.

After the plane had left Greg slowly started to come around.

"What happened?" he asked.

Anderson told him about the shipment of airplane parts and that there would be three more shipments arriving later that afternoon. When Greg heard that he became kind of woozy again, but managed to fight it off.

"I don't believe it, I don't freakin' believe it," he said.

"Believe what?" Hutch asked walking up.

He had gone over to the Sheep Pen to see if he could find some old towels or something else that they could use to lay some oily parts on.

"Hutch, how would you like it if I told you that I'm giving you an early Christmas present?" Greg asked.

"Depends on what it is?" Hutch replied. "A date with Betty Grable would be nice."

"Well, it's not that," Greg indicated the boxes that were stacked off to the side of the air strip.

"That's the first of four shipments of airplane parts, according to the pilot who delivered these about 20 minutes ago."

Hutch looked dazed.

"Are you okay?" Casey asked.

"Uh...yeah...I just don't believe it," Hutch replied.

"Well, if I weren't seeing it for myself I wouldn't believe it, either," Greg replied.

 _I had no idea what caused those big shots in Washington to finally send us the parts, maybe my letters and the plane assessment packets did the trick or perhaps, General Moore had put in a word about my situation, but that was doubtful since he had known about the problem for months. Anyway, who cared how it happened, the main thing was we had the parts and could get the planes back in the air, which was all that mattered to us._

Four days later, everyone was at the airstrip saying goodbye to TJ and Emily. The weather was perfect, a brilliant blue sky with just a few wispy clouds overhead.

"You'll meet Sister Mary Elizabeth on Espritos Marcos and be there about an hour while they refuel and take care of some paperwork," Greg replied. "After that it will be a straight flight to San Francisco."

"I know," TJ said sounding a little scared.

"Don't worry, TJ, everything will be fine," Greg assured him.

Emily reached out and Greg took her from him.

"I am really going to miss you," he said. "You've caused me less trouble the entire time you've been here than any of these guys and you're younger than them by several years,"

"Give her time," TJ remarked. "I'm sure that she's been taking in all of our bad habits and in a few years she'll be driving Robert and Janie to distraction."

"Oh, not this little sweetheart," Greg said. "Emily is and always will be a perfect angel."

The others nodded in agreement.

Greg bent down so that Emily could pet Meatball one final time. She hugged him and he was certain, as she talked to him in baby talk that she was telling him she was going to miss him. "He's going to miss you too, but I hear you have a new puppy named Snowflake waiting for you at your new house and we'll all write and tell your mommy what Meatball's been up to," he said trying to keep from tearing up.

The transport plane would be landing, shortly and everyone started talking at once telling Emily how much they were going to miss her and how they had enjoyed caring for her.

"Look, if I know Janie she's going to take a lot of pictures and from here on out her letters are going to be nothing, but news about Emily so it will seem like she's still here and remember they made me promise that after we all get back home you all will come visit them as often as you want," TJ reminded them.

Greg handed Emily to French and after he had held her and told that he was going to miss her, the other Black Sheep had a chance to hold her and let her know how much they were going to miss her, as well before Casey handed her back to TJ just as the transport plane was landing.

"I'll see you in three weeks," Greg told him. "And I expect you to behave yourself while you're gone."

"I probably won't have much a chance to get into any trouble, Pappy," TJ assured him. "I'm going to be too busy being Uncle TJ."

They stood there watching as the plane took off and continued to watch until it was out of sight. No one seemed to know what to do, after that, it seemed as if a part of them were missing with TJ and Emily gone and they just stood there looking like lost sheep. Finally, Greg snapped them out of it.

"All right, TJ will be back in three weeks and I know that he's not expecting you to just sulk around the entire time, because I'm certainly not going to stand for it, so go find something to do or I'll find something for you to do and if it comes to that happening you probably won't like it."

At that statement everyone suddenly remembered something they had to do. Casey and Anderson headed towards the radio shack to straighten things up and sweep the floor. Gutterman, French, and Bragg remembered that they had promised Hutch they would help him work on the planes and so they hurried off to see what he wanted them to do. Boyle left to go write a letter to his family, since he had been neglecting to do that and now seemed like the perfect time, as far as he was concerned.

Greg looked down at Meatball and the two of them headed down to the beach for a walk.

 _I knew from the beginning that I was going to miss Emily once she was gone and even though she was now a part of TJ's family and we all would undoubtedly see her again, or at least hear about what was going on in her life as she grew up, it still didn't make it hurt any less. Still, I knew that this was no place for her. Hell, it was no place for anyone, for that matter, and hopefully, once this war was over, future generations would never have to go through what we were now._

A note about the story:

The character of George Williams is based on my grandfather, George William Gerhardt, who passed away in 1994. Grandpa George, as I affectionately called him served in the Navy with the Seabees during WW2 and was stationed in the South Pacific close to where the actual Black Sheep were stationed. To my knowledge, Grandpa George never met any of the Black Sheep or was near Vella La Vella, the real name of the island the Black Sheep were on. Still, I like to think that they may have flown over some of the islands on which he was stationed and I like to imagine Grandpa George and the real Greg Boyington in Heaven sharing stories of their time in the South Pacific. I included him in the story as a tribute to his service and the service of the other Seabees that he served with.


End file.
